It was Mrs. Ladue. She had heard the unaccustomed sounds of merriment issuing from her husband's room and had come up--rather timidly, it must be confessed--to see what it was all about. If her heart was fluttering a little with symptoms of hope, as she came, it is not to be wondered at. There was another reason for her coming, although she was not conscious that it had weight with her. She was half smiling as she entered; half smiling in a doubtful, hesitating sort of way, ready to let the smile develop in its own lovely manner or to check it and let it fade away, according to circumstances. Sally held tightly to her hand. Professor Ladue got upon his feet with more agility than would have been expected of him. "Sally and I were having a session with my lizard," he said, "and were variously entertaining ourselves. I hope your head is better, Sarah." Mrs. Ladue appeared to see some reason for letting her smile take its natural course. It was a very lovely smile, almost tender. Professor Ladue should have been a very proud and happy man that it was for him. There is no reason to think that he was. "Thank you, Charlie," she replied. "It is all right, to-day. Won't you and Sally go on with your session and let me be a visitor? It must have been a very amusing session. I don't know when I have heard Sally laugh so much." Sally clapped her hands again. "Oh, do," she said. "You were going to tell me about a tree, father. What about it?" Professor Ladue talked much nonsense in the next half-hour and was surprisingly gay; and Sally sat, holding her mother's hand, and smiling and chuckling and enjoying it intensely. Of course Mrs. Ladue enjoyed it. The professor seemed so genial and care-free that she reproached herself for her doubts. She even thought, unfortunately, that it was a favorable time for asking for something that she was very much in need of. But she hesitated, even then. "Charlie," she said timidly, as they were going, "can you--can you let me have this week's money for the house? Katie, you know,--we owe her for two weeks, and there's the--" Professor Ladue interrupted her. "Money?" he said airily. "Money? What's money? Certainly, my dear. Help yourself. You're welcome to anything you find there." He tossed her his pocketbook and turned back to his skeleton. Perhaps it was to hide some embarrassment; perhaps it was only to indicate that, so far as he was concerned, the incident was closed. For the pocketbook was empty. Mrs. Ladue spoke low and tried hard to keep any hint of reproach out of her voice. "Did you--did you lose it?" she asked. "I suppose I must have lost it, if there was anything to lose," Professor Ladue replied nonchalantly. He did not turn away from his work. "And--and did you notify the police?" "No, my dear, I have not notified the police, yet." He smiled dryly as he spoke. "I will take that matter under advisement."