you're concerned, trust us to be
anxious, dear Mr. Farvel. That's how we came to guess. _Isn't_ it, my
daughter?"

Sue did not move. "Yes, mother," she answered obediently; "yes."

Farvel got up. "Mrs. Milo," he began, "I intend to be quite frank with
you all. And I feel I ought to tell you that this young woman----"

"Alan!"

It was Clare who protested, almost in a scream, and with a forward
start which Wallace also made--involuntarily.

Farvel shook his head and threw out both hands in a helpless gesture.
"They'd better hear all about it," he said.

"You listen to me!" she returned. "This is nobody's business but ours.
Do you understand? Just ours."

Mrs. Milo interrupted, with an ingratiating smile. "Still, Mr. Farvel
is the Rector of our Church. Naturally, he wishes to be quite
above-board"--she laid emphasis on the words--"even in his personal
affairs."

"No!" Clare came past Farvel, taking her stand between him and Mrs.
Milo almost defensively. "No, I tell you! No! No! No!"

Sue went to her mother. "Miss Crosby is right," she urged quietly.
"This is a private matter between her and Mr. Farvel. It goes back
quite a way in their lives, doesn't it?" She turned to the clergyman.
"Before you came to the Rectory, and before mother and I knew you? So
it can't be anything that concerns us, and we haven't any right to
know"--this as Mrs. Milo seemed about to protest again. "I'm right,
mother. And we're going--both of us."

"We-e-e-ll,"--it was Farvel, uncertain, and troubled.

"Alan, not now," broke in Wallace; "--later."

"May _I_ have another word?" inquired Mrs. Milo, with an inflection
that said she had so far been utterly excluded from voicing her
opinions. "Mr. Farvel,----"

But Clare did not wait for the clergyman to give his permission. "I
say no," she repeated defiantly. And to Farvel, "Please consider me,
will you? I'm not going to have a lot of hypocrites gossiping about
me!"--this with a pointed stare at the elder woman.

"And, Alan, you said yourself,"--it was Wallace again--"there'll be
talk. You don't want that."

Balcome, standing behind Wallace, suddenly laid a hand on his arm.
"Say, what's _your_ part in this trouble?" he demanded. "You seem
excited."

"Why--why--I haven't any part."

Balcome shrugged, and flopped the big hat. "Not any, eh?" he said.
"Hm!" By a lift of his eyebrows, and a jerk of the head, he invited
Farvel to take a good look at Wallace