here while the going is good."

"Away from Storm, you mean?"

"Away from Kentucky."

Channing groaned. "Damn it all, I will, then! Though it's going to play
hob with my book.--No time like the present. I'll go back with you
to-day, Morty, and put my things together.--It 's been the best time of
my life!" he sighed, already beginning to dramatize himself as the
self-denying Spartan.

He sought out his hostess in her office an hour later, and confessed to
her that he had no longer any excuse for remaining under her roof.

"We authors are such slaves," he murmured. "I must get back to my native
habitat, like a bear to its cave." (he had almost said "wounded bear.")

"You are leaving Kentucky, then?"

"Yes, after a few days at Holiday Hill to get my things together."

"You are sure you are quite well and strong again?" she asked slowly.

"I fear I am. Better than I've ever been in my life, and fatter, alas!
thanks to your excellent cook."

She did not give him an answering smile. "I am glad of that, because I
should not like any guest, above all Jim Thorpe's nephew, to leave my
house until he was quite ready to do so.--And I have been waiting," she
added, very quietly, "until you were quite well and strong to speak to
you about a certain matter."

His tongue went dry in his mouth; a sensation that reminded him of
episodes in his schooldays, when circumstances led him not infrequently
into the office of the headmaster.

Mrs. Kildare said quite suddenly, "I understand that you are courting my
daughter Jacqueline, Mr. Channing."

For the moment a reply failed him. He had not expected quite such a lack
of delicacy.

She went on. "Something my daughter Jemima noticed led us to that
conclusion. Perhaps she was mistaken? You will understand, Mr. Channing,
that I must be father as well as mother to my children."

She paused again; and still the usually fluent Channing had not found
his voice.

"I thought it best," she went on, "to write to my friend Professor
Thorpe, who introduced you to our house. Be kind enough to read his
reply."

Channing took the letter, and made pretense of reading it, though he was
only too well aware of its contents.

MY DEAR KATE:

Your letter overwhelms me. I had no idea that my nephew was on
terms of any intimacy in your household. Jemima, in fact, assured
me that the contrary was the case, and Jemima is not often
mistaken.

I blame myself deeply