her face was warm, rich color, and her eyes were gay and bright, but
she was tired. She would deny it if asked. He did not have to ask. If
only he could take her away and let her rest!

She was going up-stairs to change her dress. Half-way up the steps he
called her, and, leaning against the rail of the banisters, he looked
up at her.

"When you come down I must see you, Frances--and alone. I shall wait
here for you."

"I cannot see you alone. There will be no time."

"Then we must make time. I tell you I must see you." Something in her
eyes made him hesitate. He must try another way. "Listen, Frances. I
want you to do me a favor. There's a young girl in my office, my
stenographer, who is to be married to-morrow to my head clerk. She is
from a little town very far from here and has no relatives, no
intimate friends near enough to go to. She lives in a boarding-house,
and she can't afford to go home to be married. I have asked Herrick to
bring her to my apartment to-morrow and marry her there. I would like
her to have--Carmencita and her father are coming, and I want you to
come, too. It would make things nicer for her. Will you come--you and
Mother McNeil?"

Over the banisters the beautiful eyes looked down into Van Landing's.
Out of them had gone guarding. In them was that which sent the blood
in hot surge through his heart. "I would love to come, but I am going
out of town to-morrow--going--"

"Home?" In Van Landing's voice was unconcealed dismay. The glow of
Christmas, new and warm and sweet, died sharply, leaving him cold and
full of fear. "Are you going home?"

She shook her head. "I have no home. That is why I am going away
to-morrow. Mother McNeil will have her family here, and I'd be--I'd be
an outsider. It's everybody's home day--and when you haven't a home--"

She turned and went a few steps farther on to where the stairs
curved, then suddenly she sat down and crumpled up and turned her face
to the wall. With leaps that took the steps two at a time Van Landing
was beside her.

"Frances!" he said, "Frances!" and in his arms he held her close.
"You've found out, too! Thank God, you've found out, too!"

Below, a door opened and some one was in the hall. Quickly Frances was
on her feet. "You must not, must not, Stephen--not here!"

"Goodness gracious! they've done made up."

At the foot of the steps Carmencita, as if paralyzed with delight,
stood for a moment, then, shutting tight her eyes, ran back