's wife sat up interestedly.

"I have heard of them," said she; "but have never seen them. I asked Ann
over the telephone one day this week, if I sent Katherine for the girl,
would she allow her to come and spend an afternoon with Mildred. But she
said that--"

"Fledra, they call her," interrupted Brimbecomb, with a keen glance at
his companion.

"Yes, so I've heard. Ann said that this Fledra was not going out at
all."

"Do you know why?"

"Why, I supposed that it was because their father had asked for them and
they feared some foul play."

"Foul play!" cried Brimbecomb. "Why, Mrs. Vandecar, don't you think that
a father ought to have his own children?" Everett's eyes pierced her
gaze until it dropped.

"Not if he is bad," murmured she, "and I heard he was brutal to them."

"It is not so; of that I am sure. That is the matter I have come about.
I have accepted the father's case."

"Oh, Everett, was this necessary for you to do, as long as you know
Ann's heart is set upon keeping them?"

Everett twisted nervously.

"She has no right to have her heart set upon them. Now, here is what I
want you to do. Ann is wearing away her health with these scrubs of
humanity, for which she won't even receive gratitude, and Horace looks
like a June shad. The boy has been sick constantly since he's been
there. If there were no hospitals in the town, it might be different. I
must make a move to separate the girl I love from the burden she can't
bear."

Everett averted his face. Until that moment this excuse had not come
into his mind. If Mrs. Vandecar had any affection at all for Ann, the
thought that the girl was making herself ill would tempt her to
interfere.

"Everett, does Ann know why you want to take them away from her?"

"Of course not; I couldn't tell her that, nor Horace, either. They would
have promptly told me to attend to my own affairs; but I could come to
you."

"I'm so glad--I'm so glad you did! And poor Ann, I wish she would allow
her friends to help her! She's such a darling in her charitable work,
though, isn't she?"

"I don't agree with you," dissented Everett.

"But you must admit, boy, that a girl who will make a hospital of her
home, who will wear out her strength for two little strangers, has the
heart of Christ in her."

"I admit her goodness," said Everett slowly, "or I should not want her
for my wife. But you can't blame me when I say that I desire her to be
herself again."

Mrs. Vand