For Sue knew. There was only one thing that could have so moved Mrs. Balcome. "Lady dear," she inquired pleasantly, "how much money do you want?" "Oh, four hundred will do." And as Balcome dove into a capacious pocket and brought forth a roll, which Sue handed to her, "One hundred, two hundred,--three--four----" She counted in a careful, inquiring tone which implied that Balcome might have failed to hand over the sum she suggested. "And now, Hattie, get your things together. We want to be gone by the time that child comes." "Oh, mother," returned Hattie, crossly, "you're beginning to treat me exactly as Mrs. Milo treats Sue." No argument followed. For at this moment a door banged somewhere in the Rectory, then came the sound of running feet; and Mrs. Milo's voice, shrill with anger, called from the drawing-room: "Susan!" "Mother?" said Sue. Hattie and her father gravitated toward each other in mutual sympathy. Then joined forces in a defensive stand behind Sue. "Now, you'll catch it, Miss Susan!" promised Mrs. Balcome. "Here's someone who'll know how to attend to you!" "My dear friend," answered Sue, "since early yesterday afternoon, here's a person that's been calling her soul her own." "Susan!"--the cry was nearer, and sharp. With elaborate calmness, Sue took up the Kewpie, seated herself, and prepared to look as independent and indifferent as possible. "Susan!--Oh, help!" It brought Sue to her feet. There was terror in the cry, and wild appeal. The next moment, white-faced, and walking unsteadily, Mrs. Milo came from the drawing-room. "Oh, help me!" she begged. "I didn't tell her anything! I didn't! I didn't! How could she find us! That terrible woman!" She made weakly to the stone bench that was nearest, and sat--as Tottie followed her into sight and halted in the doorway, leaning carelessly. CHAPTER XI Miss Mignon St. Clair was a lady of resource. Given a telephone number, and a glimpse of a gentleman who was without doubt of the cloth, and she had only to open the Classified Telephone Directory at "Churches," run down the list until she came to the number Mrs. Milo had given her, and the thing was done. She disregarded Ikey's repeated "I don't knows" over the wire, donned an afternoon dress for her morning's work (Tottie was ever beforehand with the clock in the matter of apparel), and set forth for the Rectory, arriving--by very good fortune--as Mrs. Milo herself was alighting out of a taxicab. Now she grinned impudently at the group in a the Close. "How-dy-do, people!" she hailed. "--Well, nobody seems to know me today! I'll introduce myself--Miss Mignon St. Clair." She bowed. Then to the figure crouched on the bench, "Say, how about it, Lady Milo?" "Oh, you must go!" cried Mrs. Milo, rising. "You must! I'll see you--I promise--but go!"