bear-cats. Old as he is to-day, he's as sound as a
man of forty; he wouldn't budge an inch for man or devil."

Mrs. Daney carefully folded the _Churchman_, laid it aside, and placed
her spectacles with it.

"Andrew, I know it's terrible of me to breathe such a thing, but--did
it ever occur to you that--perhaps--the father of Nan Brent's child
might be--"

"Donald?" he exploded incredulously.

She nodded, and about her nod there was something of that calm
self-confidence of an attorney who is winning his case and desires to
impress that fact upon the jury.

"By God, woman," cried Daney, "you have the most infernal ideas--"

"Andrew! Remember it's the Sabbath!"

"It's a wonder my language doesn't shrivel this paper. Now then, where
in hades do you get this crazy notion?" Daney was thoroughly angry.
She gazed up at him in vague apprehension. Had she gone too far?
Suddenly he relaxed. "No; don't tell me," he growled. "I'll not be a
gossip. God forgive me, I was about to befoul the very salt I eat.
I'll not be disloyal."

"But, Andrew dear, don't you know I wouldn't dare breathe it to anyone
but you?"

"I don't know how much you'd dare. At any rate, I'll excuse you from
breathing it to me, for I'm not interested. I know it isn't true."

"Then, Andrew, it is your duty to tell me why you know it isn't true,
in order that I may set at rest certain rumors--"

"You--mind--your--own--business, Mary!" he cried furiously,
punctuating each word with a vigorous tap of his finger on the arm of
her chair. "The McKayes meet their responsibilities as eagerly as they
do their enemies. If that child were young Donald's, he'd have
married the Brent girl, and if he had demurred about it, The Laird
would have ordered him to."

"Thank you for that vote of confidence in the McKaye family, Andrew,"
said a quiet voice. "I think you have the situation sized up just
right."

Andrew Daney whirled; his wife glanced up, startled, then half rose
and settled back in her chair again, for her legs absolutely refused
to support her. Standing at the foot of the three steps that led off
the veranda was Hector McKaye!

"I drove Donald down from The Dreamerie to catch the up train, and
thought I'd drop over and visit with you a bit," he explained. "I
didn't intend to eavesdrop, and I didn't--very much; but since I
couldn't help overhearing such a pertinent bit of conversation, I'll
come up and we'll get to the bottom of it. Keep your seat, M