"Roses," echoed Dora, and counting on her fingers, "--mother, cottage, garden----" "And tell her that she's got a dear mother--so brave, and good, and sweet, and pretty. And her mother loves her--don't forget that!--loves her better than anything else in the whole world----" "Loves her," checked off Dora, pulling aside another finger; "--brave, good, sweet, pretty----" "Yes, and there's going to be no more boarding out--no more forever! Oh, the lonely little heart!" Sue took Dora by both shoulders. "Her mother's waiting for her! Her mother! Her own mother!" "Boarding out,"--checking again; "--waiting mother. Miss Susan, I shall return by the first train tomorrow, Providence permitting." This last was accompanied by a solemn look at Mrs. Milo, and a roguish hop-skip that freed her from Sue's hold. "Oh, the very first!" urged Sue. "Dora!" Dora swung herself out. Now Mrs. Milo seemed her usual self once more. "Then Mrs. Farvel will not remain at the Rectory?" she inquired. "Oh, how could she? Of course not! They called me in to tell me: Mrs. Farvel and Barbara will leave New York in two or three days." "Good! Meanwhile, we shall stay at the hotel with Mrs. Balcome." "But I _must_ go to the Rectory." "_I_ see no necessity." "Why, mother! Mrs. Farvel couldn't possibly go there without someone. Surely you see how it is. Besides, there's the house--Dora's gone, and I must go back." "You'll do nothing of the kind," returned Mrs. Milo, tartly. "Just for one night?" "Not for one hour. They will get someone else." "A stranger?--Now, mother! Mrs. Farvel needs me." "Oh, she needs you, does she?"--resentfully. "And I suppose your own mother doesn't need you." "You'll be with Wallace." "So!" And with a taunting smile, "Perhaps Mr. Farvel also needs you." "No." But now a curious look came into Sue's eyes--a look of comprehension. Jealousy! It was patent to her, as it had never been before. Her mother was jealous of Farvel; fearful that even at so late a date happiness might come to the middle-aged woman who was her daughter. "No," she said again. "He doesn't need me." "_In_deed!" "No--I need him." Mrs. Milo was appalled. "A-a-a-ah! So _that's_ it! You need him! Now, we're coming to the truth!" "Yes--the truth." "_That's_ why you couldn't rest till you'd followed this woman!" Mrs. Milo pointed a trembling hand toward the double door. "You were sure it was some love-affair. And you were jealous!" Sue laughed. "Jealous," she repeated, bitterly. "Yes, jealous! The fact of the matter is, you're crazy about Alan Farvel!" She was panting. "And if--I am?" asked Sue. "_Oh!_" It was a cry of fury. With a swift movement, Mrs. Milo passed Sue, pulled at the double door, and stood, bracing herself, as she almost shrieked down at Clare, kneeling before an open suitcase. "You've done this! You! You dragged my son down, and now you're coming between me and my daughter!" Clare rose, throwing a garment aside.