Sally thought the smile somewhat ill-timed, but she was glad enough that her mother felt like smiling. That smile exasperated her a little. She had just come back and the past twenty-four hours had been rather crowded. But her mother did not know that. And she was glad enough that her mother had not asked questions, for, if she had been asked, she would have lied, if necessary, for the first time in her life. Her mother did make a remark which, as Sally thought, showed that she knew. Sally had her hand on the door and was on the point of going out. She turned. "Why, mother!" she exclaimed. "So you knew, all the time, what the trouble was!" She laughed in derision; at herself, chiefly. "And I took such pains to keep the truth from you!" "I didn't know, Sally. I only guessed. It's what I have been afraid of for years--the first thing I should have looked for. What else could you expect, with his--" She did not go on. Sally, fresh from that interview with her father,--it had happened only that morning,--was almost overcome by the memory of it. "Why, Sally, dear!" cried her mother. "I didn't suppose you felt so. Don't, dear. It's nothing that we can help--the wanting to, I mean. And I'm sure you have done more than anybody else could." Sally regained her self-control with an effort. "I don't feel so bad about Charlie. I've done all that I can--now. But it's rather taken it out of me," she added, with a nervous little laugh. "Of course, dear. I wish I were good for anything. I know," she said, laughing nervously, in her turn, "that I ought to feel troubled. But I can't, Sally, dear. As long as--" she hesitated and flushed. "I am rather ashamed to say it, but as long as--as your father hasn't turned up, I can't be anything but contented and happy. I find that I've had an absurd feeling--utterly absurd, dear, I know--that he was about to. It's only since you were on the way that that dread has left me and I've felt contented--so happy and contented. The change came with curious suddenness, about the time your train must have left." Sally had turned away sharply. "I'm very glad, mother," she replied in a stifled little voice. "I'm glad you can feel so happy. There's no need to feel that dread any more, I think. I'm going out now. Don't be worried if I am late." "Going to walk, Sally?" Mrs. Ladue asked diffidently. "You had better tell me what direction you will take--in case Fox comes in, you know. He always wants to know your direction if you are at all late." "I'm going out to see him," Sally returned. "I promised to tell him about it."