So then; to one, at least, she had not been a lasting grief! Dolores felt very proud for herself and for Clarke Shayle. She turned to her caller with the impulse to confide her good news, but hesitated at the look of him. He had yielded to the Airedale’s importunities and was scratching the stub ears. The eyes of the dog were rolling from realized bliss. Those of the implement of bliss were troubled. She could see that attorney Holt was planning whatever he had come to say. “Miss Trent,” he began on noting that he again had her attention, “Mr. Cabot has been acting under my insistent advice in not coming to see you. I know that he wishes to come. My stand is based upon my high regard for him and, may I add, for you? He intends to accomplish a divorce from Mrs. Cabot as soon as possible, but on his own terms--terms primarily calculated to repudiate the slurs cast upon you. His ruling desire is to save your good name. I want to see him carry out this idea. Miss Trent, do you?” “Why--why, yes,” faltered the girl. “I am glad to hear you say that, because--Well, you and he, lovely little lady, know better than I just why. His position is at present extremely jeopardous. He is watched night and day by detectives.” “More detectives? But I thought----” “I did, too. Mrs. Cabot, however, has not accepted Judge Strang’s decision as final. She has postponed her trip abroad and from Newport is directing an attack on his integrity and mine. Through influence and the manipulations of a brilliant shyster, she is trying to re-open the case in another court. Meanwhile, she is acting on the theory expressed in the old French proverb that ‘love and smoke are unable to conceal themselves?’” Evidently love, at least, was not. With his white, slim hand Holt shielded his eyes from sight of her face and continued: “More than before is the Cabot name threatened, your good name and mine. Unless we are discreet she may have a case which just might convince a judge less discerning than my friend Roscoe Strang and let the Bar Association get its claws into me. If your whereabouts should be chanced upon, if the florist should be inspired to tell of the daily flowers paid for by the lawyer who lost Mrs. Cabot’s first case, even if friend pup here should yap his identity abroad--Do you see, Miss Trent, why my advice has been insistent?” After a keen glance at her he continued: “But I fear that my advice is losing its punch. You see, I have an imagination. I know John Cabot and I have seen you. Perhaps I haven’t made clear the absolute faith I feel in both of you. Wish I could put it beautifully with all the words and music. But we men weren’t meant to be gods in strength, you know. Why, even I have a secret vice!” He smiled across at her youthfully; at her continued silence, added: “I wriggle my toes.” But the girl did not smile back. She couldn’t “What is it you wish me to do?” she asked.