"Why, I was!"--this not without the note of injured innocence always so effective. But Sue was not to be blocked so easily. "You're going to pay her for what?" "Pay?" "What was she saying?" Now Mrs. Milo realized that she had been heard: that she must save herself from a mortifying situation by some other method than simple justification. She took refuge in tears. "I can see that you're trying to blame me for something!" she complained, and sank, weeping, to the settee. "I don't like to, mother," answered Sue, "but----" That good angel who watches over those who see no other way out of an embarrassing predicament save the unlikely arrival of an earthquake or an aeroplane now intervened in Mrs. Milo's behalf. Dora came in, showing that the bell had, indeed, been summoning the mistress of the house. Behind Dora was Tottie, and the attitude of each to the other was plainly belligerent. "As you don't know your Scriptures," Dora was saying, with a sad intonation which marked Tottie as one of those past redemption, "I'll repeat the reference for you: 'Curiosity was given to man as a scourge.'" Then in anything but a spirit proper to a biblical quotation, she slammed the door in Tottie's face. Mrs. Milo, dry-eyed, was on her feet to receive Dora. "Oh, you impudent!" she charged. "That's the reference you gave _me_--when I asked you who was telephoning my daughter! I looked it up!" "Ah, Mrs. Milo!" Dora put finger-tips together and cast mournful eyes up to Tottie's chandelier. "'The tongue is a world of iniquity.'" Sue took her by a shoulder, shaking her a little. "Dora, I'm sending you out of town." "Oh, Miss Susan!" All nonsense was frightened out of her. "Don't send me away! I tried to do my best--to keep her from coming here! But, oh, Deuteronomy, nine, thirteen!" "Deuteronomy, nine, thirteen," repeated Mrs. Milo, wrinkling her brows. Her eyes moved as she cudgeled her brain. "Deuteronomy----" Sue gave Dora another shake. "Listen, my dear! I'm sending you after a little girl. Here! Twenty dollars, and it's Mr. Farvel's." "Oh, Miss Susan!"--with abject relief. "Gladly do I devote my gifts, poor as they are, to your service." And in her best ministerial manner, "Where is the child?" She tucked the paper bill into a glove. "Poughkeepsie,"--Sue gave her the address. "Go up this afternoon--right away. And return the first thing in the morning. Bring her straight to the Rectory. Now, you'll have quite a ride with that baby, Dora. And I want you to get her ready for the happiest moment in all her little life! Do you hear?--the happiest, Dora! And, oh, here's where you must be eloquent!" "Oh, Miss Susan, 'I am of slow speech, and of a slow tongue.'" "I'll tell you what to say," reassured Sue. "You say to her that you're bringing her to her mother; and that she's going to live with her mother, in a little cottage somewhere--a cottage running over with roses."