was a warning.

He understood. "We'd--we'd like to see Miss Crosby alone," he said
curtly, for by another wave of the hat Balcome had given him the
initiative.

"Yes--go, Tottie."

Miss St. Clair turned, her gown trailing luxuriously. "I seem to be in
the way today," she laughed, with an attempt at coquetry. Then to
Clare, "I'm your friend, pettie. If you need me----"

The younger man could no longer contain himself. "Oh, she told us you
were here!" he cried.

"Tottie!"

"It's a lie!--a lie!" She swept past him, her face ugly with
resentment. And to Clare, "Don't you let this feller put anything over
on you, kid."

"All right, madam! All right!" Wallace's fingers twitched. He was
ready to thrust her from the room.

She went, with a backward look intended to reduce him; and shut the
door. As he followed, opening the door to find that she was actually
gone, and leaning out to see her whereabouts farther along the hall,
she broke into a raucous laugh.

"Rubber!" she taunted. "Rubber!"

When he had shut the door again, and faced about, he kept hold of the
knob, as if supported by it. "I--I felt you'd like to know, Miss
Crosby," he commenced, forcing himself to speak evenly, "that Mr.
Farvel is over there at the Rectory."

"Oh!" She put a hand to her head, waited a moment, then--"I--I
thought--maybe when--I saw you."

"I knew that was why you left." He was more at ease now, and came
toward her. "Do you want to see him?"

"No! No!" She put out both hands, pleadingly. "I don't want anything
to do with him! I don't want him to know I'm in New York. Promise me!
Promise!"

Wallace looked down. "Well,--it isn't my affair," he said slowly.

Mrs. Colter bustled in, a package swinging from one hand by a holder.
"Oh, excuse me!" she begged, coming short.

Clare ran to her in a panic. "Oh, go! Go!" she ordered almost
fiercely. "Go home! Don't wait! Hurry!" Then as Mrs. Colter, scared
and bewildered, attempted to pass, "No! Go 'round! Go 'round!"

"Yes," faltered the other, dropping and picking up her bundle as Clare
shoved her hallward; "yes." She fled.

"Close the door!" cried Clare. And as Wallace obeyed, she again went
to stand against the panels of the double door. She seemed in a very
fever of anxiety. "Please go now, Wallace," she begged. "Please! I'm
much obliged to you for coming. It was kind. But if you'll go----"
Her voice broke hysterically.

He glanced at Balc