“Well, he’ll be back for dinner, won’t he?” Lucy inquired. “Oh, yes. But he’ll be late, he said. He wanted me to go with him but I was afraid of getting seasick. It’s a beautiful day after all, though!” and she gazed out the window regretfully. “I have to look through a trunk, anyway,” she added, as if comforting herself. “I didn’t know he was going,” said Lucy. “He was worried last night and I guess he forgot to tell you.” Lucy began to sew with renewed determination. “I was right sorry for John last night,” Mrs. Merwent declared. “You should be more careful what you say, Lucy.” “What do you mean, Mamma? What have I said?” “Why, things that make John feel that--that--why, about Mr. Sprague.” “What about him?” Nannie’s gaze fell before Lucy’s. “Nothing in particular, except that you show so plainly that you----” “That I what?” Lucy demanded almost fiercely. “Well, that you are interested in him,” murmured Nannie, with attempted calmness, adding at once, “of course I know that there is nothing between you and Mr. Sprague, but you should consider----” She stopped abruptly. “Consider what my husband might think, I suppose,” interrupted Lucy hotly. “Well, when you take his part against John and me you must admit that you give people a right to think things.” “You, and not John, were the one who tried to queer Jim, and I would have taken the part of anyone under the circumstances,” returned Lucy indignantly, “and if you want to think evil of it, you can do so.” “Well, John agreed with everything I said,” defended Nannie. “Then, if he wants to think badly of me, he can too!” Lucy exclaimed angrily. “It would evidently suit you if he did.” “How can you say that, Lucy, when I was trying to save you from just such things! That’s the gratitude a mother gets--especially if she’s forgiven a lot in her child,” complained Nannie in a tremulous voice. “Most of the evil you are always so anxious to save me from only exists in your own mind, Mamma. I would be much more grateful if you would quit thinking of nasty things to forgive me for,” retorted Lucy bitterly. “Well,” replied Mrs. Merwent, “I’m sure I’ve done my duty. I didn’t want John to get suspicious, but----” “That’s why you keep suggesting vile interpretations of innocent things to him!” interpolated Lucy disgustedly, springing to her feet and gathering up her mending. “Why, Lucy,” began Nannie, on the verge of tears. But Lucy went into the hall, and ascended the stairs. A few moments later she returned with her hat and coat on. “I’m going out,” she announced. Her voice was harsh. She paused in the doorway. Nannie looked up and met her daughter’s eyes uncomfortably. “Where are you going?” she asked finally, pulling at the handkerchief in her lap with uncertain fingers. “I’m going to see Jim.”