s my brother's name for you," said Anne.

Lutie lowered her eyes for an instant. A sharp struggle was taking place
within her. She had failed to see in Anne's eyes the expression that would
have made compromise impossible: the look of condescension. Instead, there
was an anxious look there that could not be mistaken. She was in earnest.
She could be trusted. The old barrier was coming down. But even as her
lips parted to utter the words that Anne wanted to hear, suspicion
intervened and Lutie's sore, tried heart cried out:

"You have come here to _claim_ him! You expect me to stand aside and let
you take him--"

"No, no! He is yours. I _did_ come to help him, to nurse him, to be a real
sister to him, but--that was before I knew that you would come."

"I am sorry I spoke as I did," said Lutie, with a little catch in her
voice. "I--I hope that we may become friends, Mrs. Thorpe. If that should
come to pass, I--am sure that I could forget."

"And you will allow me to help--all that I can?"

"Yes." Then quickly, jealously: "But he _belongs_ to me. You must
understand that, Mrs. Thorpe."

Anne drew closer and whispered in sudden admiration. "You are really a
wonderful person, Lutie Carnahan. How _can_ you be so fine after all that
you have endured?"

"I suppose it is because I too happen to love myself," said Lutie drily,
and turned to press the button. "We are all alike." Anne laid a hand upon
her arm.

"Wait. You will meet my mother here. She has been notified. She has not
forgiven you." There was a note of uneasiness in her voice.

Lutie looked at her in surprise. "And what has that to do with it?" she
demanded.

Then they entered the apartment together.

CHAPTER XX

George Tresslyn pulled through.

He was a very sick man, and he wanted to die. That is to say, he wanted to
die up to a certain point and then he very much wanted to live. Coming out
of his delirium one day he made a most incredible discovery, and at that
very instant entered upon a dream that was never to end. He saw Lutie
sitting at his bedside and he knew that it must be a dream. As she did not
fade away then, nor in all the mysterious days that followed, he came to
the conclusion that if he ever did wake up it would be the most horrible
thing that could happen to him. It was a most grateful and satisfying
dream. It included a wonderful period of convalescence, a delightful and
ever-increasing appetite, a painless return voyage ove