he said, absorbed in putting on her jacket.

She took her place in the boat by Mr. Henderson. Evidently the evening
had gone wrong with him, for his face was ghastly in the moonlight,
and his long, nervous fingers never stopped fingering the little gold
cross hanging below the line of his vest.

William Leroy did not return with the party at all. Not that she was
concerned with that, Alexina assured herself proudly, it was only that
she could not help hearing the others wondering at his entering a boat
with the negro boy and rowing swiftly away up the lake. It was clear
to her. Lake Nancy would have been the next lake on the chain had the
channel been cut. He meant to tramp across home to save himself the
trouble of going back to town. She did not think he had very good
manners at any rate. Yet, when the boats came in at the hotel pier, it
was William Leroy who met them. He waited for Alexina and walked with
her a little ahead of the others up through the yard.

"Mrs. Garnier is not well," he told her. "I went home and drove in and
Mr. Jonas is putting her in the wagon now. We'll take her out to
mother; she's all upset over something."

She stopped short, having forgotten her mother. "I can't let you," she
declared; "it isn't right to Mrs. Leroy."

"Mother's waiting," he said. "You'd better go in and say something to
somebody, and get Celeste."

Mrs. Leroy said that people always obeyed the King William tone.
Alexina stood, hesitating. He waited.

Then she went.

He was in the wagonette when she and Celeste came out. The place was
still and deserted, even Mr. Jonas gone, for which Alexina was
grateful.

Molly was on the back seat, and Celeste, gaunt and taciturn, started
to mount beside her.

Molly protested. "Not you, mammy; go in front. I want Malise--not the
big Malise, you know--the little one."

The girl, taking the wraps from the old woman, got in by her mother
and began to put a shawl about her. The dew was falling heavily. Molly
touched her hand. "Once Alexander said to me, 'Let Malise keep tight
hold on you, Molly.'"

William Leroy was flicking the mules travelling briskly through the
sandy streets, and talking to the old woman, but she was sullen and
the conversation died.

Alexina's heart was choking her. Her father--daddy--Molly had spoken
to her of daddy.

And all the while Molly was talking on, feverishly, incessantly. "You
must keep him away, Malise, that minister, he worries me and his