“There was no criminal act,” retorted Baron. “Nothing is really wrong. Have him up!” His tone seemed to say: “Assert your right! I’ll back you up!” He went to the head of the stairway. “Come right up, Addis,” he called. He tried to throw a great deal of cordiality into his voice. Flora’s hands went to her temples in a gesture of despair. “You invited him here in mother’s absence--you know you did!” she cried. “I didn’t. But I wouldn’t care if I had. I’d have done it if I’d had the wit to think of it. Why shouldn’t he come?” “I won’t have him come in this way. Until mother--” She slipped from the room without finishing her sentence. “What do you intend to do?” demanded Baron. “There’s only one thing to do. I think I may be needed elsewhere just now. I’m going up into the attic.” But as she made her escape she glanced down the stairs. Somebody was coming up. There was the stubborn black hair, the ruddy cheeks, and the close-cropped black mustache---- But she was gone. Mr. Addis mounted the stairs with the determination of one who goes more than half-way to meet destiny. “Come in!” called Baron. “Excuse me for not coming to meet you. You know I’ve got a bad ankle.” “Yes,” said Mr. Addis, whose robust presence somehow had the effect of making all the aspects of the room effeminate and trivial. “You--were expecting me?” “No--that is,” bungled Baron, “we’re delighted to have you call.” Addis reflected. “And Miss Baron?” he asked. “She’s up in the attic just now. There are some callers, I believe.” A dull flush mounted to the visitor’s forehead. “I’m afraid I made a mistake,” he said. He arose, casting a keen glance at Baron. “You didn’t. You didn’t make any mistake at all. We won’t wait for them to come down. Come, let’s follow, if you don’t mind.” “Follow--” said Addis. “We’ll go up to the attic.” CHAPTER XXVII WHAT HAPPENED IN THE ATTIC When Bonnie May got up into the attic she gave one swift thought to the fact that Mr. Addis would be coming to the house before long, and that she would not be free to receive him. Flora would be surprised to see him; but then, she concluded, Flora ought to think all the more highly of him if she decided that he had come without waiting for an invitation. Then her mind was diverted from Mr. Addis and his affairs. It was diverted by an impulse which compelled her to put her arms swiftly about Clifton’s neck, and Jack’s, and express again her joy at seeing them. “You dear boys!” she exclaimed, “it makes me feel so good--and so bad--to see you again. Oh, those old days!” They all found chairs, and for a little time Bonnie May leaned forward in hers, her shoulders drooping, her eyes filled with yearning. Then she aroused herself. “Do you remember the time we went to Cheyenne in a sort of coach, and the soldiers made us have dinner--a Christmas dinner--with them?” she asked.