Tottie let her eyes fall--to the modish dress, with its touches of lace; to a pearl-and-amethyst brooch that held Mrs. Milo's collar; to the fresh gloves and the smart shoes. She recognized good taste even though she did not choose to subscribe to it; also, she recognized cost values. She looked up with a mysterious smile. "Well," she said slowly, "I don't like to--knock anybody." "A-a-ah!" triumphed the elder woman; "I thought so!--Now, you won't let me be imposed upon! Please! Quick!" A white glove was laid on a chiffon sleeve. "Sh!--Later! Later!" The landlady drew away, pointing toward the back-parlor warningly. The situation was to her taste. She seemed to be a part of one of those very scenes for which her soul yearned--melodramatic scenes such as she had witnessed across footlights, with her husky-voiced favorite in the principal role. "I'll come back," whispered Mrs. Milo. "No. I'll 'phone you." With measured tread, Tottie stalked to the double door, her eyes shifting, and one hand outstretched with spraddling fingers to indicate caution. Mrs. Milo trotted after her. "But I think I'd better come back." Tottie whirled. "What's your 'phone number?" "Stuyvesant--three, nine, seven,"--this before she could remember that she was not planning to sleep under the Rectory roof again. "Don't I git more'n a number?" persisted Tottie. "Whom 'm I to ask for?" "Just say 'Mrs. Milo.'" "Stuyvesant--three, nine, seven, Mrs. Milo," repeated Tottie, leaning down at the table to note the data. Then with the information safely registered, "Of course, it'll be worth somethin' to you." Mrs. Milo almost reeled. She opened her mouth for breath. "Why--why--you mean----" All her boasted poise was gone. Tottie grinned--with a slanting look from between half-lowered lashes. "I mean--money," she said softly; and gave Mrs. Milo a playful little poke. "Money!"--too frightened, now, even to resent familiarity. "Money! Oh, you wouldn't----! You don't----!" "Yes, ma'am! You want somethin' from me, and I can give it to y', but you're goin' to _pay_ for it!" The double door opened. Sue entered, her look startled and inquiring. It was plain that she had overheard. Mrs. Milo pretended not to have noted Sue's coming. "Yes, very well," she said to Tottie, as if continuing a conversation that was casual; but the blue eyes were frightened. "Thank you so _much_!"--warmly. "And isn't that a bell I hear ringing?" She gave the landlady a glance full of meaning. "Ha-ha!" With a nod and a saucy backward grin, Tottie went out. For a moment neither mother nor daughter spoke. Sue waited, trying to puzzle out the significance of what she had caught; and scarcely daring to charge an indiscretion. Mrs. Milo waited, forcing Sue to speak first, and thus betray how much she had heard. "I thought you'd gone," ventured Sue. "Gone, darling? Without you?" "That woman;"--Sue came closer--"I hope you were very careful."