!" She rushed toward him, and Belden smiled
sardonically as his brother-in-law planted a perfunctory kiss on her
chin.

"This may comfort you, Peter, as it has me so often in such
circumstances. So short, so true, so helpful. 'Underneath are the
everlasting arms!' Do you feel that, Peter?"

"I--I--yes, indeed, Aunt Lucia--you must want a bite of something, I'm
sure, driving so far."

Peter writhed miserably in Aunt Lucia's crape-and-jet arms.

"Not till I have seen her, Peter. Afterwards I shouldn't mind. I have
brought such a beautiful address by Bishop Hunter. It was delivered on
the occasion of the death of Governor -------, unless I forgot to put it
in with my knitted shawl. I believe I did. I will send for it directly.
When my dear husband--he was so fond of Clarice--died, I read it more
than anything else, except the Prayer-book, of course. You will surely
find it a help."

"Yes, Aunt Lucia. Your room is ready, and--"

"Not till I have seen her, Peter."

"Susy is there now, and Miss Strong says nobody else this evening.
Tomorrow--"

Aunt Lucia drew away.

"Do I understand that Susy Wylie--no relation at all--is preferred
before the only mother Clarice has had for all these years?"

Peter winced. "But you weren't here, Aunt Lucia," he argued wearily.

"Who is Miss Strong?"

"Here she is!" There was great relief in Peter's voice. "Miss Strong, my
aunt, Mrs. Wetherly."

"Mrs. Moore sends you her best love, and wants you to get thoroughly
rested, so that you can see her the first thing in the morning, Mrs.
Wetherly. She says you are not to let them frighten you."

As if by magic the formidable frown faded from Aunt Lucia's forehead.
She smiled approvingly at the nurse.

"Very well. I should like to ask you a few questions--Clarice was always
thoughtful."

They moved away together. The two men stared at each other.

"How do you account for that?" Belden queried.

"Oh, it's her calm way and her voice. You want to do everything she
says. Norah says she's sure Mrs. Moore will get well now, with her to
take care of her. By George, Will, if she pulls Caddy through it'll be
worth her while, I tell you."

"Oh, they always do their best. And they all have that habit, I fancy.
It's part of the training."

Peter looked up surprised.

"You don't like her, eh?"

"How absurd. I never considered her particularly. I don't care for
masculine, dictatorial women, on general principles--"

"Oh, nonsense! I