ple think or say, and he is too young to realize that one
_must_ pay _some_ attention to public opinion. You realize that, of
course."

"I ought to, Mrs. Daney. I think I have had some experience of public
opinion," Nan replied sadly.

"Then, should Donald McKaye's impulsive sympathy lead him to--er--"

"You mean that I am to discourage him in the event--"

"Precisely, Miss Brent. For his father's sake."

"Not to mention your husband's position. Precisely, Mrs. Daney."

Mary Daney's heart fluttered.

"I have trusted to your honor, Nan--although I didn't say so in the
beginning--not to mention my visit or this interview to a living
soul."

"My 'honor!'" Nan's low, bitter laugh raked the Daney nerves like a
rasp. "I think, Mrs. Daney, that I may be depended upon to follow my
own inclinations in this matter. I suspect you have been doing some
talking yourself and may have gone too far, with the result that you
are hastening now, by every means in your power, to undo whatever
harm, real or fancied, has grown out of your lack of charity."

"Nan, I beg of you--"

"Don't! You have no right to beg anything of me. I am not
unintelligent and neither am I degraded. I think I possess a far
keener conception of my duty than do you or those whom you have
elected to represent; hence I regard this visit as an unwarranted
impertinence. One word from me to Donald McKaye--"

Terror smote the Samaritan. She clasped her hands; her lips were pale
and trembling.

"Oh, my dear, my dear," she pleaded, "you wouldn't breathe a word to
him, would you? Promise me you'll say nothing. How could I face my
husband if--if--" She began to weep.

"I shall promise nothing," Nan replied sternly.

"But I only came for his father's sake, you cruel girl!"

"Perhaps his father's case is safer in my hands than in yours, Mrs.
Daney, and safest of all in those of his son."

The outcast of Port Agnew rose, filled her apron with the driftwood
she had gathered, and called to her child. As the little fellow
approached, Mrs. Daney so far forgot her perturbation as to look at
him keenly and decide, eventually, that he bore not the faintest
resemblance to Donald McKaye.

"I'm sure, Nan, you will not be heartless enough to tell Donald McKaye
of my visit to you," she pleaded, as the girl started down the beach.

"You have all the assurance of respectability, dear Mrs. Daney," Nan
answered carelessly.

"You shall not leave me until you promise to be