A light step sounded at the end of the veranda. A figure in white was moving toward the door, and recognizing Sylvia, he rose hastily and advanced to meet her. "Is that you, Mr. Bassett? I ran over with a new grammar for Blackford that he will like better than the one he's using. I've marked his lesson so he can look it over before I come in the morning. How is Mrs. Bassett?" "She's very tired and nervous to-night. Won't you sit down?" "Thank you, no. If it isn't too late I'll run up and see Mrs. Bassett for a moment." "I think you'd better not. The nurse is trying to get her to sleep." "Oh, then of course I shan't stop," and Sylvia turned to go. "How soon will Marian be home?" "To-morrow evening; I'm going up to get her to-night," he answered harshly. "You are going to the Willings to come home with her?" asked Sylvia, surprised by his gruffness. He spoke in a lower tone. "You didn't see to-day's papers? She's been to Chicago with those Willings and their machine was smashed and the chauffeur hurt. I'm going to bring her back. She had no business to be visiting the Willings in the first place, and their taking her to Chicago without our consent was downright impudence. I don't want Mrs. Bassett to know of the accident. I'm going up on the night train." It satisfied his turbulent spirit to tell her this; he had blurted it out without attempting to conceal the anger that the thought of Marian roused in him. "She wasn't hurt? We should be glad of that!" Sylvia lingered, her hand on the veranda rail. She seemed very tall in the mellow starlight. His tone had struck her unpleasantly. There was no doubt of his anger, or that Marian would feel the force of it when he found her. "Oh, she wasn't hurt," he answered dully. "It's very unfortunate that she was mixed up in it. I suppose she ought to come home now anyhow." "The point is that she should never have gone! The Willings are not the kind of people I want her to know. It was a great mistake, her ever going." "Yes, that may be true," said Sylvia quietly. "I don't believe--" "Well--" he ejaculated impatiently, as though anxious for her to speak that he might shatter any suggestion she made. Before she came he had sharply vizualized his meeting with Marian and the Willings. He was impatient for the encounter, and if Sylvia projected herself in the path of his righteous anger, she must suffer the consequences. "If I were you I shouldn't go to Chicago," said Sylvia calmly. "I think your going for Marian would only make a disagreeable situation worse. The Willings may not be desirable companions for her, but she has been their guest, and the motor run to Chicago was only an incident of the visit. We ought to be grateful that Marian wasn't hurt." "Oh, you think so! You don't know that her mother had written for her to come home, and that I had telegraphed her." "When did you telegraph her?" asked Sylvia, standing her ground.