"The fact that her work bears not the remotest resemblance to his has nothing to do with the question, I presume?" "Writing is writing," answered Thomasina in her lightest tone. She waited for a word from Dr. Green, but none came. "Margie Ginter was a good girl, I have always believed," she went on. "She was in a dreadful position here. If Basil had anything to do with her, it was to help her in some fashion. He was--" Thomasina did not go on with her sentence; it seemed difficult for her to say what he was. "As for the resemblance, Eleanor has gray eyes and so had he, and a light step and so had he, but others have bright eyes and a light step." Dr. Green still said nothing. He seemed to give each sentence of Thomasina's careful consideration. "It is a pity for Mary Alcestis to have worried for so many years." Her voice seemed to lose its strength. "One can't do much for a woman as foolish as that," said Dr. Green. "I should say she deserves to have the punishment exactly suited to her case." "It is a pity, too, for little Mrs. Bent," went on Thomasina. "What no one knows will not hurt Mrs. Bent." "No one knows now," answered Thomasina. "But Mary Alcestis told me. She is in a hysterical condition and there is no telling to whom she may break out. It would be most unfortunate to have this pried out of her by--well, say by Mrs. Scott." Again Dr. Green was silent. "It's a pity, too, for Eleanor," said Thomasina. "I think it very unlikely that Mrs. Lister will let such a mad tale become public--you say it is a mad tale." "It is a pity for Richard, too." "Richard least of all," answered Dr. Green. "I can't see how he would be affected." "Then you have not been watching the young people." "I don't understand you." "I mean that Richard is evidently in love with Eleanor and that his mother has found it out--therefore his absence and her tears." "Is Eleanor in tears?" Dr. Green's tone sharpened. "Yes, a part of the time Eleanor is in tears." "She had better cry than think of marrying," declared Dr. Green. "Such a match would be the end of her work. It would be the greatest mistake, it would be a calamity. She has every prospect of success. I do not believe that she can be seriously impressed with that silky mother's boy. If she is, let her get over it!" "You have always taken a great interest in her." "Yes," answered Dr. Green. "I have. She has possibilities." "I saw by accident your check for her piano," said Thomasina. "It lay on the desk in the company's office." "Did you?" asked Dr. Green coolly. His tone could have been no more severe if Thomasina had opened and read one of his letters. "What did you conclude from that?" Thomasina did not answer his question. "It is worst of all for Basil Everman," said she. "When one thinks of him, it becomes monstrous. Doesn't it seem so to you, Dr. Green?" Green rose to his feet. He met Thomasina's eyes coolly. "Miss Thomasina--" Thomasina lifted her hand.