as blinking harder than ever. "Well, I'll be damned!" he
vowed under his breath.

By now Mrs. Milo's smile had grown into a clear, joyous, well-modulated
laugh. "Oh, ha! ha! ha! ha! ha!--Wife!" she exulted. "That is most
interesting! Hm!--And it changes everything, doesn't it?"--this to no
one in particular. She reseated herself, studying the floor
thoughtfully, finding her glasses meanwhile, and tapping a finger with
them gently. "Hm!--Ah!--Yes."

Balcome replied to her, and with no idea of sparing her feelings.
"Yes, that puts quite a different face on things," he agreed; "--on
what Wallace has done. The home of his best friend!"

"Let's not talk about it!" begged Farvel.

"All right, Mr. Farvel," answered Balcome, soothingly. "But my
Hattie's happiness--that's what I'm thinking of." He came nearer to
Clare now. "And before I go," he said to her, "I'd like to ask you one
more question."

"Oh, you would!" she retorted ironically. "Well, I'm not going to
answer any more questions. I've got a lot to do. And I want to be let
alone." She made as if to go.

"Wait!" commanded Farvel.

She flushed angrily. "Well? Well? Well?" she demanded, her voice
rising.

"We shan't trouble you again," assured the clergyman, more kindly.

"Then spit it out!" she cried to Balcome. "I want to know," began
Balcome, eyeing her keenly, "just whose child that is?"

It was Farvel's turn to gasp. "Child?" he echoed.

Mrs. Milo straightened against the green velours. "A child?" she said
in turn.

"You know who I mean," declared Balcome, not taking his look from
Clare. "That little girl who called you Auntie."

She tried to speak naturally. "That--that--she's a friend's child--a
friend's child from up-State."

"You told us she was your sister's child," persisted Balcome.

She took refuge in a burst of temper. "Well, what if I did? I'm
liable to say anything--to you!"

There was a pause. Farvel watched Clare, but she looked down, not
trusting herself to meet his eyes. As for Balcome, he had reached a
conclusion that did not augur well for the happiness of his daughter.
And his gaze wandered miserably.

Curiously enough, not a hint occurred to Mrs. Milo that this new turn
of affairs might have some bearing on her son. She found her voice
first. "Ah, Mr. Balcome," she said sadly, nodding as she put away her
glasses, "it's just as I told Sue: it's always the same story when a
girl drops out of sight!"