“She’s probably down-stairs, mother, with--with her friends.” Flora went to the stairway and called. There was no response. She listened, anxiously turning her eyes toward her mother; but there was no sound of voices on the floor below. “They wouldn’t have remained in the house a minute,” declared Mrs. Baron, who was now frankly remorseful. “But Bonnie May--she may have gone back to talk to Mrs. Shepard,” suggested Flora. They could hear Mrs. Harrod’s voice, pleasantly masterful. She had introduced Addis to the McKelvey girls, now that she happened to think of it, and they were slipping eager gusts of laughter and disconnected phrases into the conversation. Mrs. Baron and Flora went down-stairs and appealed to Mrs. Shepard. Bonnie May had gone out, Mrs. Shepard said. She had come down-stairs and telephoned something in great haste, and then she had induced her two gentleman friends to go away. An automobile had come quite promptly, and she had gone away in it. Mrs. Baron turned away from her daughter and rested her hand against the wall at the foot of the staircase. Her attitude spelled repentance and fear. She went up into the child’s room, and Flora followed close enough to hear a low, tremulous cry of despair. “I wouldn’t, mother!” soothed Flora, whose eager voice brought Mrs. Harrod and the others. Mrs. Baron was standing beside a little worktable and a chair that were Bonnie May’s. Her face was quivering. “I’m a disagreeable old creature,” she declared. “I don’t deserve to have any happiness.” One hand fumbled with a handkerchief, which she lifted to her eyes. From the other, slowly relaxing, a handful of roses and ridiculous little silk butterflies fluttered slowly to the floor. “I want you all to leave me--please!” she begged. “I’m not fit to be seen.” She put forth a hand to Mrs. Harrod. “Do come back again soon,” she begged. “And you, too,” she added, extending her hand to the McKelvey girls. And then, as she dabbed her discolored eyes, she concluded with--“And you, too!” She glanced aside, but her hand went out to Addis. Then she disappeared into her own room, and softly closed the door. Flora’s eyes were shining as she escorted the party down-stairs. “She’s only gone to visit friends,” she declared. “She’ll be back.” The McKelvey girls burst from the front door ahead of the others. They were cheerful creatures who were not to be depressed long by the scenes they had just witnessed. Flora, standing in the hall to let the others pass, heard them shrieking joyously: “Oh, what a lovely new car you’ve got, Mrs. Harrod,” and then she heard Mrs. Harrod explaining, as she emerged into the sunlight: “A birthday present from the colonel.” They had all passed out now except Addis, and when Flora opened the door a little wider for him he stood still an instant and looked out. The others were out there inspecting Mrs. Harrod’s new car. Then he took Flora’s hand in his and closed the door firmly and securely.