in his
arms as she had slipped in front of the restaurant on Scollay
Square, the girl's mind had been stabbed through by such a poignant
feeling, such a desire to know more about him, that she was actually
frightened by the strength of this concern.

She knelt before her north window with the frosty air breathing in
like a balm upon her fevered body, and strained her eyes for a
glimpse of the light that always burned in Tunis' window when he was
at home. It was a long time before she saw it. For Tunis Latham had
walked about the fields a long time after she left him, and it was
late when he finally entered the big brown house behind the cedars.

Aunt Lucretia, who had been expecting him, after she had seen the
_Seamew_ heading for the cove that afternoon, was still sitting in
the kitchen when her nephew entered. Composed as the man's features
were, there was still an expression upon them which startled the
woman. It brought her out of her chair, even if it did not bring an
audible question to her lips.

"I was delayed, Aunt 'Cretia," he said. "No; nothing new about the
_Seamew_ or about business. It's--there's trouble up to the Balls'."

He knew her first thought would be for the health of the two old
people, and he had to explain a little more.

"They are all right--Cap'n Ira and Aunt Prue. It's about Sh--Ida
May."

"Tunis! Nothing has happened to the girl?"

He must take Aunt Lucretia into his confidence--at least, to some
extent. Just how much could he tell her? How much dared he tell her?

From somebody, he felt sure, she would hear about this other girl
who had appeared to claim kinship with the Balls and demand that
Sheila give over to her the place she had with Cap'n Ira and
Prudence. For Ida May Bostwick was going to talk. Tunis knew that
well enough. Although he had warned her sternly that evening against
talking, he knew well enough that after the girl had recovered from
her first fright she would spit out the venomous tale that she had
already concocted in her mind about Sheila and himself.

He could not bring himself to confess to Aunt Lucretia all the truth
about his first meeting and subsequent association with Sheila.
Indeed, he hoped he would never be obliged to tell it.

But he must tell Aunt Lucretia nothing but the truth. He did this by
beginning at the coming of the real Ida May Bostwick to the Ball
house that afternoon and her claim to Sheila's place with the
family. As he told the sto