“My husband is in Capital City now, David,” Enid interrupted eagerly. “I am going to have him intercede with the authorities for you. You can return to Capital City as soon as you like. There’ll be no trouble, I promise you. It is the only thing we can do to repay you for your great kindness toward—our daughter.” “Then you can go back to college, David,” Sally rejoiced, her eyes shining through tears. “And when you’ve graduated and—and gotten your start, we can be married, can’t we?” “If you still want me, Sally darling,” David answered gravely. “Thank you, Mrs. Barr. You’ll—you’ll try to make Sally happy, won’t you?” “I promise you she’ll be happy, David,” Enid answered, giving him her hand. “May I speak with you alone a moment?” she added impulsively, and linking her arm in his drew him toward the door that opened into the little foyer hall. “David! You’re not going? Without telling me goodby?” Sally cried, stumbling blindly after them. “Goodby, my darling.” He put his arm about her shoulders and laid his cheek against her hair as he murmured in a low, shaken voice: “I’ll be loving you—always!” When the door had closed upon her mother and her almost-husband, Sally did a surprising thing: she went stumbling toward Mrs. Stone, and dropped upon her knees before that majestic, rigid figure which she had feared for twelve years. When Enid Barr returned a few minutes later, two round spots of color burning in her cheeks, she found her daughter in the orphanage matron’s lap, cuddled there like a small child, trustfully sobbing out her grief. CHAPTER XVI Enid Barr left with her daughter for Kansas City that night, after wiring her husband, Courtney Barr, who was still awaiting word from her in Capital City. For two days Sally and Enid shopped for a suitable wardrobe for Sally, went to shows together, explored the city, and spent many hours talking. Whenever the question of Sally’s future arose, Enid spoke only in generalities, evading all direct questions, but about Sally’s childhood and young girlhood in the orphanage and on the Carson farm, and about her experiences with the carnival, Enid was insatiably curious and invariably sympathetic. Sally sensed that her mother was anxiously awaiting Courtney Barr’s arrival before making any definite plans, and gradually the girl grew to dread the ordeal of meeting her mother’s husband, the man who would become her father by adoption. And when at last he came she knew that her troubled intuition had been correct. However “wonderful” he had been to Enid when she had discovered that her child had not been born dead but was alive somewhere in the world, Sally felt instantly that his kindness and generosity toward Enid would not extend to herself.