Even the child felt the tension, and the strain of it. She could not have told what it was; but she missed something beside her daddy, infinite was her longing for him, and her loneliness without him. At times she used to beg the dignified Roberts to play buck-jump, and tag, with her, as "daddy used to do." And this she did while Blake and her mother and her Aunt Elinor were in the library, going over the troublesome papers with their imposing seals and undecipherable writing. "I've been looking for you everyw'ere, Miss Muriel," the butler announced, impressively. Everything that Roberts did was impressive. "Were you, Woberts?" she queried. "You didn't want to play hide-and-go seek, did you, Woberts? Because if you did, I'd like to heaps and heaps." He opened his lips in protest; but she interrupted: "I'll be it, Woberts, and you can run and hide. Oh! Will you?" What could he say? It hurt his dignity--it was a distinct prostitution of pride--and yet, what could he say? What could he do? For he, too, loved, pitied, and was sorry. Thus it was that, returning from the library, Kathryn, Elinor and Blake came upon a red-faced and puffing butler engaged in giving a most realistic imitation of a bear, while a delighted little girl, clapping tiny hands in glee, adjured him to growl as bears growl, not as cows growl. It was another welcome little break in the tension. And for that it was welcome; welcome, that is, to all but him of the outraged dignity. And even he, though he puffed and huffed below stairs, deep down in his heart was glad that he had sacrificed his most precious possession in such a cause. [Illustration] CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE. TEMPTATION. Elinor VanVorst swung around in her chair, and eyed her sister. "Well, Kate?" she asked. Kate raised violet eyes in protest. "Please, Nell, don't insist," she begged. "I don't want to talk about it." Her sister continued, firmly: "It must be talked of.... You must divorce him, Kate." "No!" "But I say, 'Yes!' You should hear what people are saying about you." "What do I care what people are saying about me? It's what I think of myself that counts." "That may be true," her sister retorted; "but it's too idealistic for this world.... Moreover, you're not consistent." Kathryn looked up, quickly. "What do you mean?" she demanded. Elinor shrugged her shoulders, a little and answered: "You're compromising. You're hedging. If he isn't good enough to live with, he isn't good to be married to." "But," Kathryn protested. "I can't live with him, Nell! You know as well as I how impossible that is." "Then," returned Elinor, rising, "divorce him." Kathryn shook her head, wearily. "I can't do that, either." The other turned.