hild's nature; they are unfathomable! It is my
task to encourage her in frivolity and the make-believe she loves--hence
our absurdities at the table. She's the drollest child, but with
wonderful understanding. And at times it's not easy to keep the divine
spark of play alive in her heart."

The light of one of the porch lamps fell upon Alice's face as she
patiently gave heed to Torrence's account of his stewardship. One of her
hands gently stroked the terrier that lay quietly in a chair beside her.
I was sure that his painstaking description of assets and market values
was boring her. Once her voice rose in expostulation. Torrence, I
judged, was suggesting that legal means could be found to expel the old
Tyringham employees from the Barton property.

"Oh, never in the world! It was quite like Mr. Bashford to want to care
for these people in their old age. And"--she laughed and turned toward
me--"they can't be dislodged while Bob lives; and we don't want to part
with him just yet."

I was glad to have him hear her address me in this intimate fashion.
Torry always inspired in me a desire to shock him. He was trying to
assure Alice that his only concern was to make her comfortable; he
wished to save her from every annoyance and that sort of thing.

"I shall help Alice to break them in, Torry," I said, lingering upon her
name for his special edification.

"Of course, Singleton," he replied. "I wasn't sure you meant to stay on.
Pardon me, but I didn't----"

"Oh, it isn't that Bob hasn't a right to stay," said Alice quickly;
"Mrs. Farnsworth and I are hoping that he will like us well enough to
share our exile on other accounts. We are so unfamiliar with everything
American that it would be most unkind for him to desert us."

"I am engaging Mr. Singleton to explain American jokes to me," announced
Mrs. Farnsworth. "Alice seems to get them, but I'm never sure."

It is a part of Torrence's business to counsel widows, which he does
like the honorable man he is, but as he rose to go presently, remarking
that his wife would motor down to call shortly, I caught a glimpse of
his face that indicated deep perplexity. I wanted to warn him that Alice
Bashford was not an ordinary widow, who vexes officers of trust
companies with foolish questions and is prone to overdraw her account,
so I left when he did.

"I want to talk to you," he said nervously when we were outside. "I'll
send the car ahead to the gate."

When the shrubbe