ouble. And I don't want to see any reporters--not one!"

"That's all right"--he spoke very gently--"I'll see them."

Her face whitened. "Oh, no! There isn't anything to say. Felix, I'll
just leave here, and they won't be able to find me. And you go
now----" She urged him toward the door.

He stood his ground. "You're not giving me the straight of this," he
asserted, suddenly severe.

"I am, I tell you! I am!" Her face drew into lines of suffering. She
entreated him, clasping his arm with her trembling hands.

He freed himself from her hold. "If I thought you were lying----"
Then, roughly, "I hate a liar!"

"Oh, but I'm not lying! Honest I'm not! Oh, believe me, and
go!--Felix!"

He forbore looking at her. "Very well," he said coldly, and started
out.

She followed him to the door. "And don't come back here, will you?
Promise you won't!"

"I shan't come back," he promised.

"Oh, thank you! Thank you!" Then in tearful appeal, seeing his
displeasure, "Oh, Felix, I love you!" The poignancy of her cry made
him relent suddenly, and turn. He put an arm about her, and she clung
to him wildly. "Oh, Felix, trust me! Oh, you're all I've got!"

"But there's something I don't understand about this," he reminded more
kindly.

"I'll explain later. I will! You'll hear from me soon."

Again he drew away from her. "Just as you say,"--resentfully.

The front door shut behind him, Clare called up the stairs. "Tottie!
Tottie!" She listened, a hand pressing her bosom.

"A-a-a-all right!"

Clare did not wait. Running back into the front-parlor, she stood on a
chair in the bay-window, and worked at the hook holding the bird-cage.
"Well, precious!" she crooned. "Missy's little friend! Her darling
pet! Her love-bird! How's the sweet baby?" The cage released, she
stepped down and hurried across the room.'

"Aunt Clare!"--first the clear, glad cry; next, a head all tumbled
curls.

"Barbara!" Clare came short. Then, as Tottie sauntered in, "Oh,
what's this young one doing here?"

Barbara had risen, discarding the doll and the shawl, and gone to
Clare. Now, feeling herself rebuffed, she went back to the settee,
watching Clare anxiously.

"Waitin' for you," answered Tottie, taking up her shawl.

"Aunt Clare!" pleaded the child, softly.

"Oh! Oh!" mourned Clare. She set the cage on the table.

Barbara bethought herself of the gift. Out of the sagging pocket of
the gingham, she produc