n's sleeve.

"He's praying, Ann! He's praying!" Miss Shellington bowed her head in
assent. "Poor baby, poor little dear!" Mrs. Vandecar's voice was louder
than before.

"Hush, hush!" breathed Ann. "Come away. He's so very ill!"

"Pity--pity my simplicity," murmured Floyd again, "and Lord prepare my
soul a--place!"

Mrs. Vandecar straightened and flashed the rigid girl at her side an
appealing glance. Ann touched her again, and the two women passed from
the room, weeping.

"How very beautiful he is!" stammered Mrs. Vandecar. "Oh, Ann, dear,
can't you do something for him? Can't I? Why haven't I tried before? You
won't be offended, will you, Ann, when I say that until this moment I
have never approved of your having him? But I've seldom seen such a
face, and he was--he was praying, poor baby! Poor, little tormented boy!
I wish that he had been awake, or that his sister were here--I want to
see her, too."

"Yes, you should see her. She is very sweet," replied Ann so gravely
that Mrs. Vandecar wept again.

Very soon she made ready for home, with no hint of the conversation she
had had with Everett, and no word of advice to Ann about giving up her
charges.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

A letter went that night from Fledra Vandecar to her husband in Albany.
It was written after the woman had paced her room for several hours in
inexplicable disquietude and unrest. Puzzled, the governor read:

"_Dearest_.--

"I went today to see Ann Shellington, with my mind fully made up to
speak to her about the boy and girl who have been with her for
these last few months. Everett was here to dinner last night with
me, and confided in me his trouble with Horace, which has finally
culminated in a breach with Ann. It seems the difficulty arose over
the case of the squatter from Ithaca who has demanded his children.

"Everett has taken the man's side, and until I called upon Ann I
felt quite in sympathy with him. And still I cannot tell you,
dearest Floyd, what changed my mind, unless it was the sight of
that sick boy. He was sleeping when I went in, and was muttering
over a babyish prayer, which quite touched me. I had no opportunity
to talk with him, nor the girl either. She was riding with Horace,
and Everett tells me that he (Horace) is quite infatuated with the
child.

"I'm going to ask you, Floyd darling, to help Horace all you can,
and i