d the suit-case. Stephen Warren threw
himself violently into a chair by the window. Young Dunn laughed aloud.
His mother flashed an indignant glance at him, and then hurried to
Caroline.

"You poor dear!" she exclaimed, putting an arm about the girl's
shoulder. "Don't mind us, please don't! Malcolm and I understand. That
is, we know how you feel and--"

"Oh, but you _don't_ know, Mrs. Dunn," cried Caroline, almost in tears.
"You don't understand! It's so much worse than you think. I--I--Oh, why
did father do it? How could he be so inconsiderate?"

"There! there!" purred the friend of the family. "You mustn't, you know.
You really mustn't. Who is this man? This uncle? Where does he come
from? Why does he force himself upon you in this way? I didn't know your
poor father had a brother."

"Neither did we," growled Stephen, savagely. Malcolm laughed again.

"What does it all mean, dear?" begged Mrs. Dunn. "You are in trouble,
I'm sure. Don't you think we--Malcolm and I--might be able to help you?
We should so love to do it. If you feel that you _can_ confide in us;
if it isn't a secret--"

She paused expectantly, patting the girl's shoulder. But Caroline had
heard young Dunn's laugh, and was offended and hurt. Her eyes flashed as
she answered.

"It's nothing," she said. "He has come to see us on a matter of
business, I believe. I am nervous and--foolish, I suppose. Mr. Graves
will see us soon, and then everything will be arranged. Thank you for
calling, Mrs. Dunn, and for the ride."

It was a very plain hint, but Mrs. Dunn did not choose to understand it
as such.

"You're sure you hadn't better tell me the whole story, dear?" she
urged. "I am old enough, almost, to be your mother, and perhaps my
advice might.... No? Very well. You know best but--You understand that
it is something other than mere curiosity which leads me to ask."

"Of course, I understand," said the girl hastily. "Thank you very much.
Perhaps, by and by, I can tell you everything. But we must see Mr.
Graves first. I--oh, _don't_ ask me more now, Mrs. Dunn."

The widow of so astute a politician as Mike Dunn had been in his day
could have scarcely failed to profit by his teachings. Moreover, she
possessed talent of her own. With a final pat and a kiss, she prepared
for departure.

"Good-by, then," she said, "or rather, _au revoir_. We shall look in
to-morrow. Come, Malcolm."

"I say, Mal!" cried Stephen, rising hurriedly. "You won't tell anyo