“I should let him,” advised Madge. She grew thoughtful again. “We cranky young women, with our new-fangled, independent ways, I guess we hurt the old folks quite enough as it is.” Flossie appeared, towing a white-haired, distinguished-looking man, a Mr. Folk. She introduced him and immediately disappeared. Joan wished she had been left alone a little longer. She would like to have heard more. Especially was she curious concerning Abner, the lady’s third. Would the higher moral law compel him, likewise, to leave the poor lady saddled with another couple of children? Or would she, on this occasion, get in—or rather, get off, first? Her own fancy was to back Abner. She did catch just one sentence before Miss Tolley, having obtained more food for reflection than perhaps she wanted, signalled to her secretary that the note-book might be closed.!

“It doesn’t matter, dearie,” she explained. “They know, if they find it open, that I’m in.” They would not let less loving hands come near her.

“Doesn’t agree with you?” inquired Miss Ensor. “I hope nobody saw me,” he said with a laugh. “But I couldn’t bear to leave her there, unhonoured.” “Poor old girl!” he added. “I believe she’d have been happier if I’d always remained plain Bob Phillips.”