And then—the swing door banged open, and there stood Amy, with a fur coat over her shimmering dress, and an ominous look in her black eyes. “Moss!” she said. “What are you doing here? Get up and come with me at once! I want to speak to you!” Without a word, he arose and followed her into the passage. “I told you I was coming to the garage!” she pointed out, in a low, furious voice. “Why didn’t you wait there?” “Look here!” said Ross. “I don’t like this sort of thing.” Before his tone her wrath vanished at once. “I’m sorry, Jimmy!” she said. “I didn’t mean to be horrid. Only, it was so hard for me to slip away—and I went all the way out to the garage in the cold and the dark, and you weren’t there—and I’m so terribly worried. Oh, you will hurry, won’t you?” “Hurry? Well, what do you want me to do?” “It may be too late, even now. Any instant he may come. He’ll ring the bell, and Gracie will open the door. I _can’t_ tell her not to. He’ll come in. Oh, Jimmy, you won’t let that happen, will you? Oh, do, do please hurry!” “But just what—” “Go out and hide some place where you can watch the front door. And if you see him coming—stop him! A thin, dark man, with a mustache. Oh, hurry, Jimmy! All evening long I’ve been waiting and waiting—in torment—for the sound of the bell. Go, Jimmy dear!” “How long do you expect me to wait for him?” “Oh, not so awfully long, dear. Just—” She paused. “Just till Eddy comes home. I’m sure he won’t be late. Now hurry!” “I don’t want to do this,” said Ross. “I can’t stop—” “Oh, shut up!” she cried; and then tried to atone by patting his cheek. “Jimmy, I’m desperate! Just help me this once! Tomorrow I’ll explain it all, and you’ll see. Only go now!” “I’ll have to get my overcoat from the garage,” he explained. “All right, dear!” she said, gently, and turned away. And as he went toward the back door, he heard her sob. All the way to the garage that sob echoed in his ears. Her tears had not affected him; they were too facile, too convenient. But that half stifled sob in the dark—He went quickly, taking the key from his pocket as he went; he, too, was in a hurry, now, to spare her this thing she dreaded. He unlocked the door, turned on the switch, ran up the stairs, through the sitting room, and into the bedroom, where his coat hung. He stopped short in the doorway. For, sitting on the bed was a tiny girl, seriously engaged in tying a ribbon about the waist of a white flannel rabbit. She looked up at the young man, but apparently was not interested, and went on with her job. “Who are _you_?” demanded Ross. “Lil-lee,” said she. “Yes, but I mean—how did you get here?” “I comed in a balloon,” she assured him.