er sadly assented.

"She didn't really want to go with him to-night, I'll say that for her,
and if I had said a single word against it she wouldn't have gone. But
all at once, while she sat there trying to think how I could excuse
her, she began asking me what she should wear. There's something strange
about it, Rufus. If I believed in hypnotism, I should say she had gone
because he willed her to go."

"I guess she went because she wanted to go because she's in love with
him," said Kenton, hopelessly.

"Yes," Mrs. Kenton agreed. "I don't see how she can endure the sight of
him. He's handsome enough," she added, with a woman's subjective logic.
"And there's something fascinating about him. He's very graceful, and
he's got a good figure."

"He's a hound!" said Kenton, exhaustively.

"Oh yes, he's a hound," she sighed, as if there could be no doubt on
that point. "It don't seem right for him to be in the same room with
Ellen. But it's for her to say. I feel more and more that we can't
interfere without doing harm. I suppose that if she were not so
innocent herself she would realize what he was better. But I do think he
appreciates her innocence. He shows more reverence for her than for any
one else."

"How was it his mother didn't go?" asked Kenton.

"She had a headache, he said. But I don't believe that. He always
intended to get Ellen to go. And that's another thing Lottie was vexed
about; she says everybody is laughing at Mrs. Bittridge, and it's
mortifying to have people take her for a friend of ours."

"If there were nothing worse than that," said Kenton, "I guess we could
live through it. Well, I don't know how it's going to all end."

They sat talking sadly, but finding a certain comfort in their mutual
discouragement, and in their knowledge that they were doing the best
they could for their child, whose freedom they must not infringe so far
as to do what was absolutely best; and the time passed not so heavily
till her return. This was announced by the mounting of the elevator to
their landing, and then by low, rapid pleading in a man's voice outside.
Kenton was about to open the door, when there came the formless noise of
what seemed a struggle, and Ellen's voice rose in a muffed cry: "Oh! Oh!
Let me be! Go away! I hate you!" Kenton the door open, and Ellen burst
in, running to hide her face in her mother's breast, where she sobbed
out, "He--he kissed me!" like a terrified child more than an insulted
wom