then, the minute I
see my chance, I must tell her my trouble--no, my big chance--all I was
just on the point of doing with Joe, and could do now--if only I had her
for a friend!"

Such thinking was spasmodic and often disconnected. Thoughts of Joe
kept breaking in, and of what she should do if she failed with him.
And again, putting down with an effort all such thoughts and fancies,
she took Susette and the baby and went out for a walk in the Park. It
was one of those balmy days that come in winter now and then, and Ethel
sat down on a bench for a while.

But then she looked around with a start. Who was that on a bench
nearby? A fat man with a black moustache, his derby hat tipped over his
forehead, and his two small piggish eyes morosely and narrowly watching
her. A detective--working for Fanny Carr! Ethel angrily rose and
called to Susette and wheeled the baby carriage away. But just as she
passed the fat man, a small fat boy ran up to him.

"Say, Pa," whined the urchin. "Buy me a bag of peanuts."

"Like hell I will," the fat man growled.

And Ethel blushed. How absurd she had been!

CHAPTER XXIII

In reply to her note, Dwight had telephoned that Sally would be there at
five. Mrs. Crothers arrived at a quarter past. She was a small alert
looking woman of thirty-five, slender, almost wiry, dark, with black
hair worn over her temples. Her small mouth was strong and willful, but
she had nice pleasant eyes. She was wearing a pretty tan hat and grey
furs that she put back on her shoulders as she smiled and held out her
hand.

"I'm so glad to meet you at last, my dear."

"Oh, thank you," said Ethel quickly. And then, because that sounded too
grateful, she added, "Won't you sit down?" in rather a stilted little
voice. This woman made her feel so young. "Now don't act like a
school-girl!" With an appearance of lazy ease she turned and poked the
small logs in the fire. "I do so love wood fires. Don't you?" she
said, in carefully easy tones, but she did not hear the answer.

Mrs. Crothers was wearing a trim street suit of brown and dark green.
"She dresses as I do, so _that's_ all right," thought Ethel. "She's
taking me in. So much the better. I'll do the same." And as they
talked, she kept throwing glances at the dark face, rather narrow, the
small and rather mischievous mouth, amid the grey eyes which looked as
though they could be so very good-humoured and friendly. But with a
little pang of dismay Ethel sa