o come back to Mrs.
Randall. Do you still blame her?"

"No, I don't believe I do. I ought to, I feel that; but I don't. It's
tangled, tangled!"

"Yes. It's the first symptom of divorce."

The girl flashed him a sudden look.

"And you hate divorce. You just said so."

"From the bottom of my soul. I meant it."

Miss Gleason flashed a second look. Suddenly, unaccountably, she held the
reins.

"What's to be done then? Margery is as she is, we both know that;
and--and Harry loves her, we both know that, too. What do you suggest?"

"I?" Roberts smiled, his slow smile. "I'm her lawyer and--abstract.
Besides, her father is wealthy. There'd be a fat fee if she returned to
him."

"You forget that I apologized."

"That's right. I'm always forgetting." Apparently he did not remember
even yet.

"You've neglected to answer my question," impatiently. "I repeat: what
are you going to do about it?"

"I asked your solution first. Do you give it up?"

"Yes," with a little gesture; "I give it up."

Darley Roberts smiled; a contagious, convincing smile.

"Very well, I'll try then," he said. "I shan't promise anything. I'll
simply try."

"Try how?"

Again Roberts smiled; but through whimsically narrowed lids now.

"I'm not sure of the details yet myself. I merely have an idea. There's
an old adage concerning Mahomet and the mountain, you know."

"And in this case Margery represents the mountain?"

"Yes."

Unconsciously the girl's color heightened.

"You really fancy," swiftly, "that Harry can be stirred up enough, can be
made practical enough--you forget you said a moment ago that he would
never advance financially."

"No. The adage will have to be adjusted a bit to meet the requirements.
He'll have to be carried there."

Elice Gleason drew a quick little breath of understanding and something
more.

"If you'll do this for one almost a stranger, one wonders what you would
do for a friend," she said; "one--wonders."

For an instant the man said nothing; abruptly, dismissing the subject, he
arose.

"There's just one other thing that I meant to tell you," he said;
"something that perhaps you know already. I'm pretty busy and I don't
always find time to read the local news. So it's not unusual that I
didn't know before. Steve Armstrong is back."

Quietly the girl arose also, stood so very still.

"Yes," she said. "He's been back a week. He's working in the big
drug-store on the corner, Shaw's place, in the