set, and he had been seen in company with persons
of both sexes who were rather notorious for their excesses.

"Well, Mr. Blossom will do the best he can, I suppose," said Miss
Carwell, with rather an intimation that the head clerk's best would be
very bad indeed.

"I'm sure he will," assented Viola. "He knows all the details of poor
father's affairs, and he alone can straighten them out. Oh, if we had
only known of this before, we might have stopped it."

"But your father was always very close about his matters," said his
sister. "He resented even your mother knowing how much money he made,
and how. I think she felt that, too, for she liked to have a share in
all he did. He was kindness itself to her, but she wanted more than
that. She wanted to have a part in his success, and he kept her
out--or she felt that he did. Well, I'm sure I hope all mistakes are
straightened out in Heaven. It's certain they aren't here."

Viola pondered rather long and deeply on what LeGrand Blossom had told
her. She made it a point to go for a drive the next afternoon with Jean
Forette in the small car, taking a maid with her on a pretense of doing
some shopping. And Viola closely observed the conduct of the chauffeur.

On her return, the girl could not help admitting that the Frenchman was
all a careful car driver should be. He had shown skill and foresight in
guiding the car through the summer-crowded traffic of Lakeside, and had
been cheerful and polite.

"I am sorry you are going to leave us, Jean," she said, when he had
brought her back to The Haven.

"I, too, am regretful," he said in his careful English. "But your father
had other ideas, and I--I am really afraid of that big new car. It is
not a machine, mademoiselle, it is--pardon--it is a devil! It will be
the death of some one yet. I could never drive it."

"But if we sold that car, Jean, as we are going to do--"

"I could not stay, Miss Viola. I have a new place, and to that I go in
two weeks. I am sorry, for I liked it here, though--Oh, well, of what
use?" and he shrugged his shoulders.

"Was there something you did not like? Did my father not treat you
well?" asked Viola quickly.

"Oh, as to that, mademoiselle, I should not speak. I liked your father.
We, at times, did have difference; as who has not? But he was a friend
to me. What would you have? I am sorry!" And he touched his hat and
drove around to the garage.

As Viola was about to enter the house she chance