a motive.  Her judgment told her to accuse the man she loved; her heart demanded that she excuse him.  For one instant her generous spirit balanced the squatter children’s welfare and her own future.  She had promised to protect Fledra and Floyd, promised them and Horace.  Only a broken prayer escaped her lips as she turned and walked quickly down the hall.  She did not wait to knock, but twisted the door-handle convulsively, and appeared before her brother without a plea for pardon for her unannounced entrance.

“He’s gone forever!” she said brokenly.  “Oh, oh, I can’t—­”

She swayed forward, and suddenly a merciful oblivion rested her turbulent spirit, during which her agonized brother worked, hoping and praying that she might soon know how he pitied and loved her.

At length, when she opened her eyes and gazed at him, Ann murmured under her breath, with a world of pleading: 

“Don’t speak of him—­don’t!  Dear heart, I can’t—­I can’t bear it!”

It was not until long afterward that Horace Shellington heard of the scene through which she had passed.

* * * * *

Everett Brimbecomb’s card admitted him to the governor’s home.  Mrs. Vandecar welcomed him with outstretched hands.

“Strange, Everett,” said she, “but I was thinking only this afternoon that I should ask you to dinner.  I feel ashamed that I haven’t before; but I’ve been such an invalid for a long time!  You must be lonely, now that your father and mother are gone.”

“I’ve been busy.”

The other laughed understandingly.

“Ah!  I had forgotten that a young engaged man has but few free evenings on his hands.”

To this Everett did not reply.

“How is dear Ann?” asked Mrs. Vandecar.

“I left her quite well; but not in the best of spirits.  In fact, dear little lady,” and he bent over the white hand he held, “I’ve come to ask a favor of you.”

“Is it anything about Ann?  I can’t have matters disarranged between you two.  I’ve always said you were an ideal couple.”

“Thank you,” murmured Everett.

Her frank words somewhat shattered his courage; for he knew her to be kind-hearted.  He did not expect to have her make any impression upon the Shellington brother and sister; but wished her assistance as far as her husband was concerned.

He kept his gaze so long upon the floor that Mrs. Vandecar spoke: 

“I’m glad you came to me, Everett.”

“Yes, I’m glad, too, and I need your help just now.  The fact is, Ann and I have had words over a case I have taken charge of in the office.”

“How very strange!” exclaimed the woman, mystified.

“It’s no more strange to you than to me,” went on Everett, after they were seated.  “First, Horace and I quarreled, and then, thinking Ann would uphold me in my work, I went to her; getting about the same reception I had received from him.”