t it."

The maid entered. "Your tea is ready, Miss."

Clare stood up and put out a hand. "We'll run across each other again,
I suppose," she said cordially.

He could scarcely believe his ears--which were burning. "Oh, then
you're not lighting out?"

"When I love little old New York so much? Not a chance! No, you can
go and get your supper without a fear." She laughed saucily. Then as
he turned, "Oh, don't forget the bird."

He leaned down, hating her for the ridiculousness of his situation. He
did not glance round again. The gray-haired maid showed him out.

CHAPTER IX

With a sigh of relief, Mrs. Milo rose, adjusted her bonnet, and, to
make sure that her appearance justified her going out upon the street,
took up from the table that same hand-mirror which she had thrust
before Clare's face. "So she's gone," she observed. She turned her
head from side to side, delicately touching hair and bonnet, and the
lace at her throat. "Well, it's for the best, I've no doubt.--And now
we can go home."

Sue did not move. She had come back from her quick survey of the rear
yard to stand at the center of the front room--to stand very straight,
her head up, her eyes wide and fixed on space, her face strangely white
and stern.

"Susan?" Mrs. Milo took out and replaced a hairpin.

Sue Stirred. "Do you mean to _his_ home?" she asked slowly.

"I mean to the Rectory." The glass was laid back upon the table.

"After what you've said?"

"What I said was true."

"Ah!--You believe in speaking--the truth?"

"What a question, my daughter!"--fondly.

"Even when the truth is bitter--and _hard_!" She trembled, and drew in
her breath at the remembrance of that scathing arraignment.

"Shall we start?"

"But he has asked you not to return. And it's you who have sent her
away. And the little one is coming. You can't go to the Rectory."

"Oh, indeed?" queried Mrs. Milo, sarcastically. "And are you going?"

Sue waited a moment. Then, "My work is there."

Mrs. Milo started. "Now let me tell you something!" she cried,
throwing up her head. "You've disobeyed me once today----"

Sue smiled. "Disobeyed!" she repeated.

"--If you disobey me again--if you go back to the Rectory without
me----"

"I shall certainly go back."

"--You shan't have one penny of your father's life insurance! Not one!
I'll leave every cent of it to Wallace!"

Again Sue smiled. "Ah, you're independent of me, aren't you?"