that--"

"You didn't hear the way he spoke, mother."

"What else, Lucy?"

"He has always looked at me very much across the church, and whenever
I have met him it has not been so much what--he said as--his manner.
You have not known what his manner was, and you have not heard how he
spoke, nor seen his eyes when--he looked at me--"

"Yes, dear, you are right. I have not. Then you have thought he was
in love with you?"

"Sometimes he has made me think so, mother," Lucy sobbed.

Mrs. Ayres gazed pitifully at the girl. "Then when you thought
perhaps he was not you felt badly."

"Oh, mother!"

"You were not yourself."

"Oh, mother!"

Mrs. Ayres took the girl by her two slender shoulders; she bent her
merciful, loving face close to the younger one, distraught, and full
of longing, primeval passion. "Lucy," she whispered, "your mother
never lost sight of--anything."

Lucy turned deadly white. She stared back at her mother.

"You thought perhaps he was in love with Miss Farrel, didn't you?"
Mrs. Ayres said, in a very low whisper.

Lucy nodded, still staring with eyes of horrified inquiry at her
mother.

"You had seen him with her?"

"Ever so many times, walking, and he took her to ride, and I saw him
coming out of the hotel. I thought--"

"Listen, Lucy." Mrs. Ayres's whisper was hardly audible. "Mother made
some candy and sent it to Miss Farrel. She--never had any that
anybody else made. It--was candy that would not hurt anybody that she
had."

Lucy's face lightened as if with some veritable illumination.

"Mother perhaps ought not to have let you think--as you did, so
long," said Mrs. Ayres, "but she thought perhaps it was best, and,
Lucy, mother has begun to realize that it was. Now you think,
perhaps, he is in love with this other girl, don't you?"

"They are living in the same house," returned Lucy, in a stifled
shriek, "and--and--I found out this afternoon that she--she is in
love with him. And she is so pretty, and--" Lucy sobbed wildly.

"Mother has been watching every minute," said Mrs. Ayres.

"Mother, I haven't killed him?"

"No, dear. Mother made the candy."

Lucy sobbed and trembled convulsively. Mrs. Ayres stroked her hair
until she was a little quieter, then she spoke. "Lucy," she said,
"the time has come for you to listen to mother, and you must listen."

Lucy looked up at her with her soft, terrible eyes.

"You are not in love with this last man," said Mrs. Ayres, quietly.
"You