"Wait a moment, Josephine; Keineth does not know yet--" "Daddy!" cried the child, running to him. "Just a moment, dear," he whispered, as he drew her between his knees and laid his cheek against her hair. Aunt Josephine looked very much in earnest. Keineth could not remember a time when she had seemed more concerned over hers and Daddy's welfare! "Now I can take Keineth with me until July. Then when I go on that yachting cruise she can go to some camp in the mountains--there are ever so many good ones. And next fall I can put her into a school. She's too old to go on living as you are living." Now the world had turned upside down! Keineth pressed suddenly close to her father. He tightened the clasp of her arm. "Wait a moment, sister. We have two or three days to talk this over. I must get Madame Henri safely started and then Keineth and I will make our plans." As he said this he squeezed the child's hand. "You're awfully good to offer to take my little girl and I know you'd try your best to make her happy." He stepped toward the door. Aunt Josephine rose, too. "Well, you'd better follow my advice," she said crisply. She almost always concluded their interviews in this manner when they had to do with Daddy's household. This time she stopped on her way to the door to place her hands on Keineth's shoulders and let her eyes sweep Keineth's little face. "I'd make an up-to-date child of her, John. She's got her mother's eyes but the Randolph features. With a little grooming she'd make a beauty. And the first thing I'd do would be to put a decent frock on her!" Keineth knew that Aunt Josephine meant to be kind but, hurt at her criticism, she drew away from her aunt's clasp. As her aunt and father went out she looked down wonderingly at the simple blue serge she wore. Tante had always had her dresses made at a little shop on lower Fifth Avenue and Keineth had always thought them very nice. Madame Henri, muttering to herself, went out of the room. Keineth stood very still until her father came back. He shut the door and went to his desk. She ran to him and hid her face on his shoulder. "Daddy--are you--going away?" "Yes, child--I must." "For all summer? For all winter?" "Yes, dear. I think it may be a year." "Daddy--" began Keineth, then stopped short to hide her face. Father must not see her cry!