ind
her, and start a new, free, delightful life in India! Tremaine knew the
kind of grand, smart people she longed to know. He was staying with some
of them now.

Just as this thought was drifting through her mind, the door opened
and she hurriedly stuffed Jack's letter beneath her silk quilt.
Radmore walked in, and his face softened as he looked down on the pale,
fragile-looking girl--for she did look very much like a girl--lying on
the sofa.

"I've brought you a lot of messages from Old Place," he began. "They
really are most awfully miserable about you!"

"I'm glad the cat hasn't been killed after all," she said weakly.

She had at last seen the look of recoil on Dr. O'Farrell's face, and she
was now trimming her sails accordingly.

"That's very magnanimous of you." Radmore smiled. He was surprised, and a
little touched, too. "May I sit down?"

He drew up a chair, and then he touched the hand belonging to the
bandaged arm. "I do hope you are fairly free from pain?" he said
solicitously.

"It does hurt a good deal."

There was a pause; his hand was still lying protectingly over her hand.

She lay quite still--a vision of lovely Paris frocks, a Rolls-Royce
running smoothly by a deep blue sea, a long rope of pearls, flashed
before her inner consciousness. Then she was awakened from this dream of
bliss by Radmore's next words:--"My godson's going to write you a letter
of apology," he said.

And then, to her chagrin, he took his hand away; it was as though Timmy's
malign influence had fallen between them. His very tone changed; it was
no longer tender, solicitous--only kindly.

"Mr. Radmore, I want to tell you something. I'm horribly afraid of
Timmy!"

There was an accent of absolute sincerity in her low voice. She went
on:--"Dr. O'Farrell has been talking to me about him. He seems a most
strange, unnatural child. The village people believe that he has
supernatural powers. Do you believe that?"

"I don't quite know what I think about Timmy," he answered hesitatingly.
He felt acutely uncomfortable, also rather shocked that Dr. O'Farrell had
said anything about a child who might, after all, be regarded as his
patient. But Enid Crofton was looking at him very intently, and so he
went on:--

"I've never spoken to any of them about it, but, yes, if you ask me for
my honest opinion, I do think the child has very peculiar powers."

And then, all at once, Enid Crofton burst into tears. "Timmy terrifies
me," s