bold!
Do you suppose anybody at all will be glad to see me?"

"I--I----" He seemed to hope that words would come in their own good
time.

"Noble!" she cried. "Don't be so glum!" And she touched his arm with her
muff, a fluffy contact causing within him a short convulsion, naturally
invisible. "Noble, aren't you going to tell me what's all the news?"

"There's--some," he managed to inform her. "Some--some news."

"What is it?"

"It's--it's----"

"Never mind," she said soothingly. "Get your breath; I can wait. I hope
nothing's wrong in your family, Noble."

"No. Oh, no."

"It isn't just my turning up unexpectedly that's upset you so, of
course," she dared to say. "Naturally, I know better than to think such
a thing as that."

"Oh, Julia!" he said. "Oh, Julia!"

"What is it, Noble?"

"Noth-ing," he murmured, disjointing the word.

"How odd you happened to be there at the station," she said, "just when
my train came in! You're sure you weren't going away anywhere?"

"No; oh, no."

She was thoughtful, then laughed confidentially. "You're the only person
in town that knows I'm home, Noble."

"I'm glad," he said humbly.

She laughed again. "I came all of a sudden--on an impulse. It's a little
idiotic. I'll tell you all about it, Noble. You see, ten or twelve days
ago I wrote the family a more or less indiscreet letter. That is, I told
them something I wanted them to be discreet about, and, of course, when
I got to thinking it over, I knew they wouldn't. You see, I wrote them
something I wanted them to keep a secret, but the more I thought about
it, the more I saw I'd better hurry back. Yesterday it got into my head
that I'd better jump on the next train for home!"

She paused, then added, "So I did! About ten or twelve days is as long
as anybody has a right to expect the Atwater family connection to keep
the deadliest kind of a secret, isn't it?" And as he did not respond,
she explained, modestly, "Of course, it wasn't a very deadly secret; it
was really about something of only the least importance."

The jar of this understatement restored Noble's voice to a sudden and
startling loudness. "'Only the least importance'!" he shouted. "With a
man named Crum!"

"What!" she cried

"Crum!" Noble insisted. "That's exactly what it said his name was!"

"_What_ said his name was?"

"_The North End Daily Oriole!_"

"What in heaven's name is that?"

"It's the children's paper, Herbert's and Florence's: you