"Matter? You're coming up the other side!" But Mrs. Milo was blissfully unaware of this bit of byplay. "Do you think Mrs. Balcome and I could make such an extended trip on five thousand?" she asked. "Well, I'll raise the ante!--_ten_ thousand." Balcome took out a fountain-pen. "Oh, think of it!" raved Mrs. Milo, ecstatically. "The dream of my life!--Europe! Africa! Asia!--Dear Mrs. Balcome, what do you say?" "We-e-e-ell," answered Mrs. Balcome, slowly, "can I take Babette?" In his eagerness, Balcome addressed her direct. "Yes! Yes! I'll buy Babette a dog satchel!" "I'll go," declared Mrs. Balcome. Mrs. Milo was all gratitude. "Oh, my dear, thank you! And we'll get ready today!--Why not? I certainly shan't stay here"--this with a glance at the toy-strewn bench. "Susan,--you must pack." Sue stared. "Oh,--do--do I go?" "Would you send me, at my age----" "No! No!"--hastily. "And you don't mean to tell me that you'd like to stay behind!" There was a touch of the old jealousy. "I didn't know you wanted me to go, mother." "Most assuredly you go." She had evidently forgotten completely her threat of the afternoon before. Sue had disobeyed. Yet her disobedience was not to result in a parting. "And that reminds _me_"--turning to Balcome, who was scratching away with his pen. "If _Sue_ goes----" Balcome understood. He began to write a new check. "I'll make this twelve thousand." Mrs. Balcome saw an opportunity. "Hattie, do you want to go?" she asked. She looked about the Close. "Hattie!" But Hattie was gone. Mrs. Milo bustled to Balcome to take the check. "I'll get the reservations at once," she declared. And as the slip of paper was put into her hand, "Oh, Brother Balcome!" "_Sister_ Milo!" Balcome, beaming, crushed her fingers gratefully in his big fist. She bustled out, taking Mrs. Balcome with her. Balcome kept Sue back. "Of course, I know that you won't get one nickel of that money," he declared. "So I'm going to give you a little bunch for yourself." "But, dear sir,----" "Not a word now! Don't I know what you've done for me? Why,"--shaking with laughter--"Mrs. B. will have to stay in England six months." "Six?" "Sh!"--he leaned to whisper--"Babette! Six months is the British quarantine for dogs!" He caught her hand, and they laughed immoderately. Her hand free again, she found a slip of paper in it. "Five thousand! Oh, no! I can't take it!" "Yes, you will! Take it now instead of letting me will it to you. For I'm going to die of joy! You see, my dear girl, you're not going to be earning while you travel. And you can use it. And you've given me value received. You've done me a whale of a turn! Please let me do this much." "I'll take it if you'll let me use some of it for--for----" "You mean that youngster?" "Would you mind if I helped the mother?"