open
when he was near the conclusion, nor saw Mrs. Keith, entering quietly
with Mrs. Foster, stop a moment in surprise. The room was shadowy, but
Mrs. Keith could see the man leaning forward with an arm on the table
and the girl listening with intent face. There was something that
pleased her in the scene.

As Mrs. Keith moved forward, Millicent looked up quickly and Blake rose.

"So you have come back!" Mrs. Keith said. "How was it you didn't go
straight to Sandymere, where your uncle is eagerly awaiting you?"

"I sent him a cablegram just before I sailed, but on landing I found
there was an earlier train. As he won't expect me for another two
hours, I thought I'd like to pay my respects to you."

Mrs. Keith smiled as she glanced at Millicent.

"Well, I'm flattered," she responded; "and, as it happens, I have
something to say to you."

Mrs. Foster joined them, and it was some time before Mrs. Keith had a
chance to take Blake into the empty drawing-room.

"I'm glad you have come home," she said abruptly. "I think you are
needed."

"That," replied Blake, "is how it seemed to me."

His quietness was reassuring. Mrs. Keith knew that he was to be
trusted, but she felt some misgivings about supporting him in a line of
action that would cost him much. Still, she could not be deterred by
compassionate scruples when there was an opportunity for saving her old
friend from suffering. Troubled by a certain sense of guilt, but
determined, she tried to test his feelings.

"You didn't find waiting for us tedious," she said lightly. "I suppose
you and Millicent were deep in your adventures when we came in--playing
Othello and Desdemona."

Blake laughed.

"As you compare me to the Moor, you must admit that I have never
pretended to be less black than I'm painted."

"Ah!" Mrs. Keith exclaimed with marked gentleness. "You needn't
pretend to me, Dick. I have my own opinion about you. I knew you
would come home as soon as you could be found."

"Then you must know what has been going on in my absence."

"I have a strong suspicion. Your uncle has been hard pressed by
unscrupulous people with an end to gain. How much impression they have
made on him I cannot tell; but he's fond of you, Dick, and in trouble.
It's a cruel position for an honorable man with traditions like those
of the Challoners' behind him."

"That's true; I hate to think of it. You know what I owe to him and
Bertram."

"He's old," continu