or a fellow.
Now, here comes James Marraville, willing to take a chance with
him--because it's the only chance left, I'll admit,--and you can bet your
last dollar, Anne, that Braden isn't going to make a philanthropic job of
it."

"But if he fails, Lutie,--if he fails don't you see what the papers will
say? They will crush him to--"

"Why should they? Bigger men than he have failed, haven't they?"

"But it will ruin Braden forever. It will be the end of all his hopes, all
his ambitions. _This_ will convict him as no other--"

"Now, don't get excited, dear," cautioned the other gently. "You're
working yourself into an awful state. I think I understand, Anne. You poor
old girl!"

"I want you to know, Lutie. I want some one to know what he is to me, in
spite of everything."

Then Lutie sat down beside her and, after deliberately pulling the pins
from her visitor's hat, tossed it aimlessly in the direction of a near-by
chair,--failing to hit it by several feet,--and drew the smooth, troubled
head down upon her shoulder.

"Stay and have luncheon with George and me," she said, after a half hour
of confidences. "It will do you good. I'll not breathe a word of what
you've said to me,--not even to old George. He's getting so nervous
nowadays that he comes home to lunch and telephones three or four times a
day. It's an awful strain on him. He doesn't eat a thing, poor dear. I'm
really quite worried about him. Take a little snooze here on the sofa,
Anne. You must be worn out. I'll cover you up--"

The door-bell rang.

Lutie started and her jaw fell. "Good gracious! That's--that's Dr. Thorpe
now. He is the only one who comes up without being announced from
downstairs. Oh, dear! What shall I--Don't you think you'd better see him,
Anne?"

Anne had arisen. A warm flush had come into her pale cheeks. She was
breathing quickly and her eyes were bright.

"I will see him, Lutie. Would you mind leaving us alone together for a
while? I must make sure of one thing. Then I'll be satisfied."

Lutie regarded her keenly for a moment. "Just remember that you can't
afford to make a fool of yourself," she said curtly, and went to the door.
A most extraordinary thought entered Anne's mind, a distinct thought among
many that were confused: Lutie ought to have a parlour-maid, and she would
make it her business to see that she had one at once. Poor, plucky little
thing! And then the door was opened and Thorpe walked into the room.

"We