ome, and the elder man nodded in acquiescence.
"We'll go," said Wallace. "I'm glad to have seen you again." He moved
away, and Balcome went with him. "But I hoped I could do something for
you----"

"There's nothing,"--eagerly. "If you'll just go."

"Well, good-by, then."

"Good-by. Good-by, Mr. Balcome."

"Good-by," grumbled Balcome.

Wallace's hand was on the knob when a child's voice piped up from
beyond the door--a voice ready to tremble into tears, and full of
pleading. "But I want to kiss her," it cried.

Clare fairly threw herself forward to keep the two men from leaving.
"Wait! Wait!" she implored in a whisper.

"She's busy, I tell you!"--it was Mrs. Colter. "Now come along."

Something brushed the outer panels; then, "Good-by, Aunt Clare!" piped
the little voice again.

"Come! Come!" scolded Mrs. Colter.

Now a sound of weeping, and whispers--Mrs. Colter entreating obedience,
and making promises; next, a choking final farewell--"Good-by, Aunt
Clare!"

"Good-by," answered Clare, hollowly.

As the weeping grew louder, and the outer door shut, Wallace went
toward the bay-window, slowly, as if drawn by a force he could not
master. He put a shaking hand to a curtain and moved it aside a space.
Then leaning, he stared out at the sobbing child descending the steps.

When he turned his face was a dead white. His look questioned Clare in
agony. "Who---- That--that--your niece?" he stammered.

"She's my sister's little girl," answered Clare, almost glibly. She
was recovering her composure, now that Barbara was out of the house.

"A-a-ah!" Wallace took out a handkerchief and wiped at his face. Then
without looking at Clare, "Isn't there something I can do for you?"

"No. No, thank you. I've got relatives here with me. I'm all right."
She took a chair by the table, and began to play with the mirror, by
turns blowing on it, and polishing it against the folds of her dress.

He watched her in silence for a moment. It was plain that she was
anxious to detain them until she felt certain that the child had left
the block and was out of sight. He helped her plan. Standing between
them, Balcome vaguely sensed that they had an understanding and
resented it. His under lip pushed out belligerently.

"I wish you'd let me know if there is anything," said the younger man,
his tone conventionally polite.

"Yes. I'll--I'll write." She controlled a sarcastic smile.

"In care of the Rectory,"