past," but because she would bring gifts he would not know
what to do with.

"I don't think of Ann as the making some man a good wife type. I think of
Ann," she tried to formulate it, "as having gone upon a quest, as being
ever upon a quest."

"A--quest?" faltered Mrs. Prescott. "For what?"

"Life," said Katie, peering off into the darkness.

Mrs. Prescott was manifestly disturbed at the prospect of a
daughter-in-law upon a quest. "She sounds--temperamental," she said
critically.

"Yes," said Katie, laughing a little grimly, "she's temperamental
all right."

They could not say more, as Ann and Wayne were coming toward them across
the grass.

And almost immediately afterward the Osborne car again stopped before the
house. It was Mr. Osborne himself this time, bringing the Leonards, who
had been dining with him. They had stopped to see Mrs. Prescott.

Katie was not sorry, for it turned Mrs. Prescott from Ann. Like the
football player who has lost his wind, she wanted a little time
counted out.

But she soon found that she was not playing anything so kindly as a game
of hard and fast rules.

It seemed at first that Ann's ride had done her good. She seemed to have
relaxed and did not give Katie that sense of something smoldering within
her. Katie sat beside her, an arm thrown lightly about Ann's
shoulders--lightly but guardingly.

Neither of them talked much. Mrs. Prescott and Mrs. Leonard were
"visiting"; the men talking of some affairs of Mr. Osborne's. He was
commending the army for minding its own business--not "butting in" and
trying to ruin business the way some other departments of the Government
did. The army seemed in high favor with Mr. Osborne.

Suddenly Mrs. Leonard turned to Katie. She was a large woman, poised by
the shallow serenity of self-approval.

"I do feel so sorry for Miss Osborne," she said. "Such a shocking thing
has occurred. One of the girls at the candy factory--you know she's
trying so hard to help them--has committed suicide!"

Mrs. Prescott uttered an exclamation of horror. Katie patted the shoulder
beside her soothingly, understandingly, and as if begging for calm. Even
under her light touch she seemed to feel the nerves leap up.

Mr. Osborne turned to them. "Poor Cal, she'd better let things alone.
What's the use? She can't do anything with people like that."

"It's the cause of the suicide that's the disgusting thing," said
Colonel Leonard.

"Or rather," amended his wi