till weeping a little, but weakly. As she turned him
toward the hall, he put an arm across her shoulders for support.

Mrs. Milo followed them. She was not in the dark as to the nature of
her son's tearful admission. But she had no mind to blame him.
Resorting to her accustomed tactics, she put Farvel in the wrong. "I
never should have trusted my dear boy to you," she cried. "I thought
he would be under good influences in a clergyman's house. Only
eighteen, and you make him responsible!"

The door opened, and Balcome was there. He looked at Wallace not
unkindly. "Pretty tough luck, young man," he observed.

At sight of Balcome, Mrs. Milo remembered the wedding. "Oh!" she
gasped. And turning about to Farvel in a wild appeal, "Oh, Hattie!
Think of poor Hattie! Won't you forget yourself in this? Won't you
help us to keep it all quiet? Oh, we mustn't ruin her life!" She
returned to the rocker, her fingers to her eyes, as if she were
pressing back the tears.

Balcome had come in, closing the door. He crossed to Farvel, his big,
blowzy face comical in its gravity. "Mr. Farvel," he said, "whatever
concerns that young man concerns my--little girl." He blinked with
emotion. "So--so that's why I ask, who is this young woman?"

Before Farvel could reply, Clare lifted her head, stood suddenly, and
stared Balcome from his disheveled hair to his wide, soft, well-worn
shoes. "Oh, allow me, Alan!" she cried. "You know, they're just about
to burst, both of 'em!"--for Mrs. Milo was peering at her over a
handkerchief, the blue eyes bright with expectancy. "If they don't
know the worst in five seconds, there'll be an explosion sure!" She
laughed harshly. Then with mock ceremony, and impudently, "Mr.
Balcome,--and _dear_ Mrs. Milo, permit me to introduce myself. I am
your charming clergyman's beloved bride." She curtsied.

No explosion could have brought Mrs. Milo to her feet with more
celerity. While Balcome stumbled backward, the red of his countenance
taking on an apoplectic greenish tinge.

"_Bride?_" he cried.

"_Wife?_" gasped Mrs. Milo, hollowly.

But almost instantly the blue eyes lighted with a smile. She put back
her bonneted head to regard Clare from under lowered lashes. "Ah!" she
sighed in relief. No longer was there need to fear publicity for her
son; here was a situation that insured against it.

"Yes, you feel better, don't you?" commiserated Clare, sarcastically.
"--Tuh!"

Balcome w