about coming to see you. And please forgive me for
taking up your time. Only knowing that you cared for him so much made
me come to you."

Miss Ironsyde did not answer immediately. Her intuition inclined her to
believe every word at its face value; but her very readiness to do so
made her cautious. The story was one of every day and bore no marks of
improbability; yet among Raymond's faults she could not remember any
unreasonable relations with the other sex. It had always been one bright
spot in his dead father's opinion that the young man did not care about
drink or women, and was not intemperate, save in his passion for
athletic exercises and his abomination of work. It required no great
perception to see that Sabina was not the type that entangles men. She
had a beautiful face and a comely figure, but she belonged not to the
illusive, distracting type. She was obvious and lacked the quality which
attracts men far more than open features, regular modelling and steady
eyes. It was, in fact, such a face as Raymond might have admired, and
Sabina was such a girl as he might have loved--when he did fall in love.
She was apparently his prototype and complement in directness and
simplicity of outlook; that Miss Ironsyde perceived, and the more she
reflected the less she felt inclined to doubt.

Sabina readily guessed the complex thoughts which kept the listener
silent after she had finished, and sat quietly without more speech until
Jenny chose to answer her. That no direct antagonism appeared was a
source of comfort. Unconsciously Sabina felt happier for the presence of
the other, though as yet she had heard no consoling word. Miss Ironsyde
regarded her thoughtfully; then she rose and rang the bell. Sabina's
heart sank for she supposed that she was to be immediately dismissed,
and that meant defeat in a quarter very dangerous. But her mind was set
at rest, for Jenny saw the fear in her eyes.

"I'm ringing for tea," she said. "I will ask you to stop and drink a cup
with me. You've had a long walk."

Then came tears; but Sabina felt such weakness did not become her and
smothered them.

"Thank you, gratefully, Miss Ironsyde," she said.

Tea was a silent matter, for Jenny had very little to say. Her speech
was just and kind, however. It satisfied Sabina, whose only concern was
justice now. She had spoken first.

"I think--I'm sure it's only some hitch in Mr. Raymond's mind. He's been
so wonderful to me--so tender and