hter," she answered, "don't you
know that there's only one reason why a girl drops out of sight?"

In amazement Sue fell back a step. "Mother!" she cried. Then turned
abruptly, and went out into the Close.

Mrs. Milo stood up, on her face conscious guilt for her suspicion and
her lack of charity. But she was appalled--almost stunned. Never in
all her life before had her daughter left her in such a way. "I
declare!" burst forth the elder woman. "I declare!" Then following
Sue a few steps, and calling after her through the open door, "Well,
what fills that basket out there? And what fills our Orphanage?" And
more weakly, but still in an effort to justify herself, "What--what
other reason can you suggest, I'd like to know! And--and it's just
plain, common sense!" She came back to stand alone, staring before
her. Then she sank to a chair.

Wallace returned. "Where's Sue, mother?" he asked.

"What?--Oh, it's you, darling? She--she stepped out."

"Out?"

"Into the Close."

"Oh." He hurried across the room.

Mrs. Milo fluttered to her feet. "I--I can't have that choir in the
library any longer," she declared decisively. And left the room.

Sue entered in answer to her brother's call, and came straight to him.
She had forgotten her anger by now; her look was anxious.

"Sue, let's go ahead with the rehearsal," he begged.

"Wallace,"--she gripped both of his wrists, as if she were determined
to hold him until she had the answers she sought--"you knew her--that
girl?"

He averted his eyes. "Why, yes."

She spoke very low. "Was she--sweet?"

"Yes; sweet,"--with a note of impatience.

"Light--or dark?"

"Rather dark." Again he showed irritation.

"Was she--was she pretty?"

"She was beautiful."

Her hands fell. She turned away. "And she dropped right out of his
life," she said, as if to herself. Then coming about suddenly, "Why,
Wallace? You don't know?"

"I--do--not--know." He dragged at his hair with a nervous hand.

She lowered her voice again. "Wallace,--she--she didn't have to go?"

Her brother made a gesture of angry impatience. "Oh, I'm disappointed
in you!" he cried. "I thought you were different from other women.
But you're just as quick to think wrong!"

She brought her hands together; and a look, wistful and appealing, gave
to her face that curiously childlike expression. "Well, influence of
the basket," she admitted ruefully, and hung her head.

He thrust his h