sure ever since Miss Mehitable's last
trip to the city that there was something unusual in the air and that
she was being defrauded of her rights in being shut out from
participation therein. Had this young masculine hurricane not stormed in
to-night, no telling how long she would have been kept in the dark; so
she stopped, looked, and listened, with all her might.

"Well, what are you goin' to _do_, Ben?" asked Miss Upton, beseechingly.
"You're not goin' to leave it so, are you?"

"I should say not. Carder is going to have me on his trail till that
exquisite creature is out of his clutches. Never was there a sleuth with
his heart in his business as mine will be. Oh!"--Ben, pausing not in the
march which sent Pearl to the top of a bookcase, raised his gaze
heavenward--"what eyes, Miss Upton! Those beautiful despairing eyes in
that dreary, sordid den, cut off from the world!"

"Ben, you stop!" whimpered Miss Mehitable, using her handkerchief.
"You're breakin' my heart. And to think how you scoffed at me on
Sunday!"

"Wasting time like a fool!" ejaculated Ben. He suddenly stopped before
the weeping Mehitable, nearly tripping over her roomy slippers. "Now,
Miss Upton, this is what you are to do. I'm going to town the first
thing in the morning and take steps to get on the trail of that sly fox.
You go right up to see Mother and tell her all about Miss Melody." Again
his gaze sought the ceiling. "Melody! What a perfect name for the most
charming, graceful, exquisite human flower that ever bloomed!" Turning
suddenly, the rapt speaker encountered Mrs. Whipp's twisted, acid,
hungrily listening countenance. He emitted a burst of laughter and
looked back at Miss Mehitable, who was wiping her eyes. "Tell Mother the
whole story," he went on, "just as you did to me; and here's hoping my
skepticism isn't inherited. And now, Mrs. Whipp"--addressing the faded
listener who gave a surprised sniff--"I'll go home and wash my face. I
know you'll approve of that. Good-night, Miss Upton; don't you cry. I'm
going to put up a good fight and perhaps Geraldine--oh, what a lovely
name!--perhaps she has the comfort of your letter by this time." Ben
scowled with sudden introspection. "What hold has that rascal over her?
That's what puzzles me. What hold _can_ he have?"

Miss Mehitable blew her nose grievously. "Why, he's cousin to her rascal
stepmother, you know. No tellin' what they cooked up between 'em."

Of course, after her emissary had