his insight, Gordon Lockwood could not be blind to the fact that both Mrs. Peyton and her daughter would be pleased if he could fall a victim to the charms of the fair Helen. Nor could he evade the conviction that Mrs. Peyton herself had entertained hopes of becoming mistress of the Waring home, until the advent of Emily Bates had spoiled her chances.

But these things were merely self-evident facts, and affected in no way the two men concerned.

The Peytons were treated with pleasant regard for both, and that ended the matter so far as they were concerned.

The subject had never been alluded to by Waring or Lockwood, but each understood, and when the Doctor’s marriage took place, that would automatically end the Peytons’ incumbency.

And now, Gordon Lockwood smiled patronizingly at himself, as he was forced to admit an unreasonable, inexplicable interest in a slip of a girl with a dark, eerie little face and a manner grave and gay to extremes.

For Anita was positively laughing at some foolishness of Pinky Payne’s. Still, Lockwood concluded, watching her narrowly, yet unobserved, she was laughing immoderately. She was laughing for some reason other than merriment. It verged on hysterical, he decided, and wondered why.

He joined the group of young people, and in his quiet but effective way, he said:

“You’ve had enough foolery for the moment, Miss Austin,—come and talk to me.”

And to the girl’s amazement, he took her hand and led her to a davenport on the other side of the room.

“There,” he said, as he arranged a pillow or two, “is that right?”

“Yes,” she said, and lapsed into silence.

She sat, looking off into vacancy, and Lockwood studied her. Then he said, softly:

“It’s too bad, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Anita sighed, and then suddenly; “what do you mean? What’s too bad?”

“Whatever it is that troubles you.” The deep blue eyes met her own, but there was no sign of response or acquiescence on the girl’s face.

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