In the
meantime, it's none of our business, dear. Eat your luncheon and don't
think about it."

He relapsed into moody silence. When he had departed for the mill
office, however, his wife's decision had been reached. Within the hour
she was on her way to the Sawdust Pile, but as she approached Caleb
Brent's garden gate, she observed, with a feeling of gratification,
that, after all, it was not going to be necessary for her to be seen
entering the house or leaving it. Far up the strand she saw a woman
and a little child sauntering.

Nan Brent looked up at the sound of footsteps crunching the shingle,
identified Mrs. Daney at a glance, and turned her head instantly, at
the same time walking slowly away at right angles, in order to obviate
a meeting. To her surprise, Mrs. Daney also changed her course, and
Nan, observing this out of the corner of her eye, dropped her apronful
of driftwood and turned to face her visitor.

"Good afternoon, Miss Brent. May I speak to you for a few minutes?"

"Certainly, Mrs. Daney."

Mrs. Daney nodded condescendingly and sat down on the white sand.

"Be seated, Miss Brent, if you please."

"Well, perhaps if we sit down, we will be less readily recognized at a
distance." Nan replied smilingly, and was instantly convinced that she
had read her visitor's mind aright, for Mrs. Daney flushed slightly.
"Suppose," the girl suggested gently, "that you preface what you have
to say by calling me 'Nan.' You knew me well enough to call me that in
an earlier and happier day, Mrs. Daney."

"Thank you, Nan. I shall accept your invitation and dispense with
formality." She hesitated for a beginning, and Nan, observing her
slight embarrassment, was gracious enough to aid her by saying:

"I dare say your visit has something to do with the unenviable social
position in which I find myself in Port Agnew, Mrs. Daney, for I
cannot imagine any other possible interest in me to account for it. So
you may be quite frank. I'm sure nothing save a profound sense of duty
brought you here, and I am prepared to listen." This was a degree of
graciousness the lady had not anticipated, and it put her at her ease
immediately.

"I've called to talk to you about Donald McKaye," she began abruptly.

"At the solicitation of whom?"

"Nobody." Mrs. Daney sighed. "It was just an idea of mine."

"Ah--I think I prefer it that way. Proceed, Mrs. Daney."

"Young Mr. McKaye is unduly interested in you, Nan--at least, that