The calm eyes looked Elaine straight in the face. The girl turned away; the glib tongue began to reel off lies. "Just now--I should think I ought to have had it yesterday; I don't know why I only had it to-day. He wants me to come home; of course he feels I'm frightfully in the way; and then it seems Polly has the scarlet fever, and Jennie looks as if she were sickening for it, and there are the other children, and papa has no one to help him--he can't afford a nurse; so you see I must go; the poor man writes as if he were half distracted." "Of course you must go; and, perhaps, in a way it's as well you must, though I'm so sorry to hear about Polly and Jennie; but I'm afraid that in any case I should have had to ask you to go." "Nora! Am I so much in the way as that?" "It is not only you who are in the way; we both of us are, both you and me. Mr. Guldenheim and his friends have come, and, in consequence, I also am leaving Cloverlea." "Nora! What do you mean?" Nothing could have been more eloquent than the amazement on Elaine's face. "You knew that they were going to sell everything to pay what it appears were my father's debts; well, it's come a little sooner than I expected, that's all." "But where will you go? What will you do?" "Something; don't fear. 'God's in His heaven, all's well with the world.' I don't doubt there's a place in it somewhere for me." "Oh, Nora, if I could only take you home with me! But it's such a poor place, and so small; and now it's like a hospital, with all the children ill of that dreadful fever, and papa writing that he's nearly penniless; what do you think yourself?" It was rather a neat way of passing on the responsibility. "I think it's out of the question. With that poor father of yours already nearly borne down beneath his troubles, do you think I'd add to them? What I'm wondering is if you've enough money to take you home." "Papa hasn't sent me any--I'm afraid he's none to send; but I've been reckoning--I've just enough, with a squeeze; but then I'm used to squeezing. Nora, I do hope you've plenty of money." "I've enough to go on with. Can I help you with your packing?" "The idea! As if I'd let you, you poor dear!" "Then, Elaine, if you won't mind very much----" Nora stopped, as if at a loss to find words with which to clothe her thoughts. Miss Harding was gushing. "I shan't mind anything, my darling. What is it?" "It--it's only, if you won't think me very unkind, that I'd--I'd like to catch a train which starts almost at once." She was thinking, perhaps, of Dr. Banyard's promise to send his wife to talk to her, and desired to avoid that talking. Miss Harding leapt at the hint. "And you want to get away immediately? And do you think I'd wish to stop you from doing anything you want to do?--you sweet! Good-bye, Nora, my darling! God bless you! I hope everything will turn out all right yet; I feel sure it will; it's bound to. And mind you write!" "I will--when I am settled."