y of Annie's life?"

Chris, taken by surprise, frowned.

"Why, yes, I suppose so," he admitted, unwillingly.

"Chris, did it ever occur to you that she might have had a child--by
that fiend?"

Chris looked at his wife a moment, and his eyes widened, and his mouth
twitched humorously.

"Oh, come now, Alice--come now!"

"You think it's folly!" she asked, eagerly.

"Worse!" he answered, briefly, his eyes smiling reproach.

Alice's whole tense body relaxed, and she stared at him with light
dawning in her eyes.

"Well, probably it is," she said, very simply.

"Of course it is," Chris said. "Now, you are dead tired, dear, and you
have let the thing mill about in your head until you can't see anything
normally. I confess that I don't understand your mother's mysterious
nervousness, but then I am free to say that I don't by any means always
understand your mother! You remember the pearl episode, and the time
that she had Annie and Hendrick cabling from Italy--because Hendrick
Junior had a rash! And then there was Porter--a boy nineteen years old,
and she actually had everyone guessing exactly what she felt toward
him----"

"Oh, Chris, no, she didn't! She simply felt that he was a genius, and he
hadn't a penny," Alice protested, reproachful and hurt.

"Well, she had him there at the house until his mother came after him,
and then, when he finally was sent abroad, she asked me seriously if I
thought two hundred dollars a month was enough for his musical
education!"

"Yes, I know!" Alice said, ruefully, shaking her head.

"Now this comes along," said Christopher, encouraged by the effect of
his words, "and you begin to fret your poor little soul with all sorts
of wild speculations. I wish to the Lord that your mother was a little
bit more trusting with her confidences, but when it all comes out it'll
prove to be some sister of your grandfather who married a tailor or
something, and left a line of pretty girls to work in Biretta's----"

"But, Chris, she reminded me so of Annie to-day I almost felt _sick_,"
Alice said, still frightened and dubious.

"Well, that merely shows that you're soft-hearted; it's no reflection on
Annie!" Chris said, giving her her paper, and opening his own. But
Alice did not open her paper.

A maid came in, and moved about noiselessly setting chairs and rugs in
order. Another soft light was lighted and the little square table set
before the fire. The cool fresh air drifted in at the ha