Farvel rose, a trifle wearily. "No," he answered, meeting the angry look of the elder woman calmly. "I am not sick." Mrs. Milo turned to vent her wrath upon Sue. "I declare I don't know what to think of you," she scolded. "Down on the carpet, making an exhibition of yourself!" Sue's look beseeched Farvel. "Don't stay for rehearsal," she said. "Find another clergyman." "That's best," he answered; "yes." Mrs. Milo broke in upon them, not able to control herself. "Where's your dignity?" she demanded of Sue. "Acting like a romantic schoolgirl--a great, overgrown woman." Farvel bowed to Sue with formality, ignoring her mother. "You're very kind," he said. "I'm grateful." With Wallace following, he went out by the door leading to the Church. Instantly Mrs. Milo grew more calm. She seated herself with something of a judicial air. "Now, what's this all about?" she asked. "You know that I don't like a mystery." Sue came to stand before her mother. And again her attitude was not that of one woman talking to another, but that of a child, anxious to excuse a fault. "Well,--well," she began haltingly, "someone he cared for--disappeared." "Cared for," repeated Mrs. Milo, instant relief showing in her tone. "Ah, indeed! A girl, I suppose?" "Y-y-yes." Still more pleased, her mother leaned back, smiling. "And she disappeared, did she? Well, I don't wonder he's so secret about it. Ha! ha!"--that well-bred, rippling laugh. Sue stared down at her. "You mean----" she asked; "you mean----" Mrs. Milo lifted her eyebrows. "My daughter," she answered, "don't you know that there's only one reason why a girl drops out of sight?" In amazement Sue fell back a step. "Mother!" she cried. Then turned abruptly, and went out into the Close. Mrs. Milo stood up, on her face conscious guilt for her suspicion and her lack of charity. But she was appalled--almost stunned. Never in all her life before had her daughter left her in such a way. "I declare!" burst forth the elder woman. "I declare!" Then following Sue a few steps, and calling after her through the open door, "Well, what fills that basket out there? And what fills our Orphanage?" And more weakly, but still in an effort to justify herself, "What--what other reason can you suggest, I'd like to know! And--and it's just plain, common sense!" She came back to stand alone, staring before her. Then she sank to a chair. Wallace returned. "Where's Sue, mother?" he asked. "What?--Oh, it's you, darling? She--she stepped out." "Out?" "Into the Close." "Oh." He hurried across the room. Mrs. Milo fluttered to her feet. "I--I can't have that choir in the library any longer," she declared decisively. And left the room. Sue entered in answer to her brother's call, and came straight to him. She had forgotten her anger by now; her look was anxious. "Sue, let's go ahead with the rehearsal," he begged.