while Sue, by contrast, seemed over-high as to color, almost boisterous
of voice, and careless in dress.

Mrs. Milo's look was all reproval. "Susan Milo," she began, "where have
you been?"

Sue was standing very still--in order not to uncover a vestige of boy.
She smiled, half wistfully, half mischievously. "Just--er--in the
Church, mother." She had her own way of saying "mother." On her lips it
was no mere title, lightly used. Her very prolonging of the "r" gave the
word all the tender meanings--undivided love, and loyalty, protection,
yet dependence. She spoke it like a caress.

Mrs. Milo recognized in her daughter's tone an apology for something.
Quick suspicion took the place of reproval. "And what were you doing in
the Church?"--with a rising inflection.

"Well, I--I was sort of--poking around."

"St!"--an exclamation of impatience. Then, "Churches are not made to
poke in."

Now there came to Sue that look that suggested a little girl, and a
naughty little girl at that. She turned on her mother a beguiling smile.
"I--I was--er--poking in the vestry," she explained.

Mrs. Milo observed that the bay-window held a young person in white
satin, who was sitting very still, and was all attention. She managed a
faint returning smile, therefore, and assumed a playful tone. "The
vestry is not a part of your duties as secretary," she reminded. "And
there's so much to do, my daughter,--the decorations, the caterer,
the----"

"I know, mother. I shan't neglect a thing." Sue swayed a little, to the
clutch of a small hand dragging at her skirt.

"And as I've said before, I prefer that you'd take all of Mr. Farvel's
dictation in the library; I don't want you hanging about in the vestry
unless I'm with you.--Will you please pay attention to what I'm
saying?"--this with much patience.

Over one arm, folded, Sue carried a garment of ministerial black. This
she now unfolded and spread, the better to hide the boy crouching closest
at her back. "Oh, yes, mother dear," she admitted reassuringly. "Yes."

"And what is that you have?" The tone might have been used to a child.

Hurriedly Sue doubled the black lengths. "It's--it's just a vestment,"
she explained, embarrassed.

"Please." Mrs. Milo held out a white hand.

To go forward and lay the vestment in that hand meant to disclose the
presence of the hiding quartette. With quick forethought, Sue leaned far
forward in what might be mistaken for a bow, t