tter half. "To stand by and hear
his own wife insulted!--the mother of his child--and join in it! How
infamous! How base!"

Satisfied with results, Balcome consulted his watch. "Well, I'm a busy
man," he observed, and kissed Hattie.

"Where is your father going?" demanded Mrs. Balcome.

"Where is father going?" telephoned Sue, taking off hat and coat.

"Buffalo."

Mrs. Balcome threw up the hand that was not engaged with the dog. "Oh,
what shall we say to Buffalo!" she said tragically. "Oh, how can I
ever go back!"

"Mr. Balcome, do you want to settle on some explanation?"

"Advise Hattie's mother"--Balcome shook a warning finger--"that for a
change she'd better tell the truth."

"Oh!"--the shot told. "As if I don't always tell it--always!" Then to
Sue, "Suppose we say that the bridegroom is sick?"

Inarticulate with mirth, Balcome gave Sue a parting pat on the shoulder
and started away.

"But, John!"

Astounded at being thus directly addressed, and before he could bethink
himself not to seem to have heard, Balcome brought short, silently
appealing to Sue for her opinion of this extraordinary state of affairs.

For Sue knew. There was only one thing that could have so moved Mrs.
Balcome. "Lady dear," she inquired pleasantly, "how much money do you
want?"

"Oh, four hundred will do." And as Balcome dove into a capacious
pocket and brought forth a roll, which Sue handed to her, "One hundred,
two hundred,--three--four----" She counted in a careful, inquiring
tone which implied that Balcome might have failed to hand over the sum
she suggested. "And now, Hattie, get your things together. We want to
be gone by the time that child comes."

"Oh, mother," returned Hattie, crossly, "you're beginning to treat me
exactly as Mrs. Milo treats Sue."

No argument followed. For at this moment a door banged somewhere in
the Rectory, then came the sound of running feet; and Mrs. Milo's
voice, shrill with anger, called from the drawing-room:

"Susan!"

"Mother?" said Sue.

Hattie and her father gravitated toward each other in mutual sympathy.
Then joined forces in a defensive stand behind Sue.

"Now, you'll catch it, Miss Susan!" promised Mrs. Balcome. "Here's
someone who'll know how to attend to you!"

"My dear friend," answered Sue, "since early yesterday afternoon,
here's a person that's been calling her soul her own."

"Susan!"--the cry was nearer, and sharp.

With elaborate calmness, Sue to