“Yes.” Miss Storms’ tone became sympathetic at once and she took the younger woman’s hand. “Well, I’ve come.” Lucy’s voice trembled slightly. There was a pause. “What is it, dear?” Miss Storms asked at last, stroking the hand she held. “Oh, Miss Storms, I got a note from Papa this morning just before I left. I--I----” Lucy stopped. Miss Storms nodded comprehendingly. “I hardly know what to say, dear,” she began. Lucy lifted strange eyes with dilated pupils, then turned away. “Arthur is terribly hurt by John’s attitude,” Miss Storms continued, scrutinizing Lucy’s half averted profile. “He resents John’s position in regard to Ellen. That’s natural, but don’t think that he ever, for one moment, mistakes the source of it, or holds it against you.” Lucy’s hands moved uneasily. “Oh, it isn’t just Papa, Miss Storms!” she burst forth. Her voice was hoarse. She kept her eyes on the open window where the blue sky showed, overcast by the city smoke. There was another long pause before Miss Storms went on. “You must get your mother out of the house, Lucy.” Her tone was emphatic. “But where can she go? She has no place to go, Miss Storms! Since my grandmother died there’s nobody but Cousin Minnie Sheldon, and she doesn’t want Mamma.” Lucy’s hands beat the air in a gesture of futility. She rose and, walking to the window, stood with her back to Miss Storms, her shoulders shaking spasmodically. Finally Lucy regained her self control and faced her friend. “I’d advise you to poison her, dear, if I weren’t afraid of getting you in worse trouble than you are.” Lucy smiled slightly but almost simultaneously her lip twitched and the tears started to her eyes. “Oh, don’t! Please don’t, Miss Storms,” she begged hysterically. “There, dear. Sit down again.” Miss Storms rose and led her to the chair. “Lucy, I have to confess a spinster’s tendency to meddle, I suppose. I asked John around here the other day and talked to him about this.” Lucy glanced at her quickly. “He didn’t tell me he was here,” she said in a low voice, staring at her lap. “Oh, Miss Storms----!” “Yes, dear?” Under Miss Storms’ touch Lucy trembled violently. “John shouldn’t treat me the way he does,” she wailed like a child. “He shouldn’t believe her insinuations. He has no right to be suspicious of me. Oh, Miss Storms, it’s awful! Jim Sprague was at our house last night and I didn’t dare to treat him decently.” Lucy began to weep softly. “Does he think that you and Jim----” Miss Storms interjected incredulously. “I don’t know what he thinks!” cried Lucy passionately. “I don’t know anything about him any more. If it wasn’t for Dimmie----” and she broke into violent sobbing. Miss Storms sat with her chin in her hands, her elbows on the arms of her chair. It was several minutes before she spoke again.