d forced
the knowledge she wanted, namely that the going of the soloist had
something to do with the clergyman. "Well,"--smiling--"I think I have
an idea." With a beckon to Mrs. Balcome, she made toward the hall.

Mrs. Balcome came rolling after, the dog worn high against the crepe
cascade. "Perhaps it's just as well that Miss Crosby went," she
observed from the door. "Of course, we could screen her with palms.
But I think she'd take away from Hattie tomorrow. She's _much_ too
pretty--much."

"Puh!" snorted Balcome. He went to slam the door after her.

Now, Hattie turned upon Wallace with sudden intensity. "What has Miss
Crosby to do with Mr. Farvel?" she demanded.

"But does it make any difference, Hattie?" put in Sue, quickly; "--as
long as it isn't your Wallace. It doesn't, of course. Mr. Farvel has
his own personal affairs, and they're no business of ours--none
whatever. Are they? No. And Miss Crosby is charming, and pretty,
and--and sweet." Now she in turn faced round upon her brother.
"But--but what _has_ Miss Crosby to do with Mr. Farvel?"

"Does it make, any difference to you?" countered Hattie.

"Of course not, Hattie!--Foolish question nine million and
nine!--Wallace, she's--she's not--the girl? You know."

He reddened angrily. "She is not!" he exploded. But as Sue, showing
plain distrust in his answer, turned toward the passage as if to go in
search of Farvel, he caught at her arm almost fiercely--and fearfully.
"Oh, no! Not yet!" he begged. "Please, Sue!"

"I believe he ought to know," she declared.

"Do you want him to give up this Church?" he cried. And as she came
back slowly, "Oh, trust me, Sue! It's something I can't tell you. But
I'm right about it.--Sh!" For Mrs. Milo had re-entered, on her
countenance unmistakable signs of triumphant pleasure.

"Ah-ha!" exclaimed that lady, as she hurried forward. "I thought there
was something queer about that Crosby girl!"

"Why, mother dear!" expostulated Sue. "I've heard you say she was such
a lady--so refined----"

"Please don't contradict me!"

"I beg your pardon."

Mrs. Milo glanced from one to another of the little group, saving her
news, preparing for a good effect. "Mrs. Balcome and I have just
solved the Farvel mystery," she announced. "We looked at that
photograph in the bureau again, and--it's Miss Crosby's picture."

"Haw-haw!" roared Balcome, with a scornful flop of the hat.

Sue went close to her brother.