e Patriarch sat in his armchair; where the lamp, turned low, throwing
the little room into half shadow, burned upon the table; where Helena,
far away from her immediate surroundings, quite silent and still, her
own chair close beside the other's, nestled with her head on the
Patriarch's shoulder.

Helena looked up as the Flopper returned.

Upon the Flopper's face was a curious expression--not one that in the
days gone by had been habitual--it seemed to mingle a diffidence, a
kindly solicitude and a sort of anxious responsibility.

"It's Thornton askin' fer youse," announced the Flopper.

Helena rose from her chair, and started for the door--but the Flopper
blocked the way. Helena halted and looked at him in astonishment.

The Flopper licked his lips.

"Say, Helena," he said earnestly, "if I was youse I wouldn't go--say,
I'll tell him youse have got de pip an' gone ter bed."

"Not go?" echoed Helena. "What do you mean?"

The Flopper scratched at his chin uneasily.

"Oh, you know!" he said. "De Doc let youse down easy ter-day. Say, if
youse had piped his lamps when you drives up in de buzz-wagon dis
afternoon youse wouldn't be lookin' fer any more trouble. Say, I'm
tellin' youse straight, Helena. When I was out dere in de kitchen an'
youse was in yer room wid him me heart was in me mouth all de time.
Youse can take it from me, Helena, he let youse down easy."

Helena's brown eyes, a little wistfully, a little softly, held upon the
Flopper.

"Yes?" she said quietly.

"Youse had better cut it out ter-night, Helena," the Flopper went on.
"Y'oughter know de Doc by dis time--de guy dat starts anything wid de
Doc gets his--dat's all! Remember de night he threw Cleggy down de
stairs in de Roost?--an' he was only havin' fun! Say, you go out wid
Thornton again ter-night an' de Doc finds it out--an' something'll
happen. Say, Helena, fer God's sake, don't youse do it--de Doc was bad
enough dis afternoon when he let youse down easy, but he's worse now,
an'--"

"Worse?" Helena interrupted, smiling a little apathetically. "In what
way is he worse? And how do you know? You haven't seen Doc, have you?"

"No," the Flopper answered, circling his lips with his tongue again.
"No; I ain't seen de Doc since--but I seen Pale Face. Say, Helena"--the
Flopper's words came stumbling out now, agitated, perturbed, not
altogether coherent--"wot's de answer I dunno; I dunno wot's de matter
here. Say"--he pointed suddenly to the Patriar