“I told him at the door when he followed me out to see me home that I did not desire the company of one who had taken me to the party and then neglected me all the evening for the most outrageous flirt in the world! So I pushed away his arm and called Tom to come with me home,” she said, angrily, between her bitter sobs, for rankling jealousy had stirred poor Emmie’s nature to its deepest depths of pain. Mrs. Hinton had been confined to her bed several days with a sprained ankle, and her husband being away from home, Emmie shared her mother’s room at night, so she took advantage of her opportunity to relate the whole story of Thea West’s transgressions. “And there is this thing about it, mamma,” she added, as she undid the rich masses of her thick brown hair and let it fall loosely about her plump white shoulders, “either Thea West has got to leave this house or I will leave it!” “Oh, dear, oh, dear, I only wish your father was here to advise me!” cried her mother, weakly. “I told Tom the same thing as we were coming home, and he declared I was quite right. He did not blame me for being so determined about it,” pursued Emmie, who always domineered over her weak little mother. “But, my dear, where is Thea to go, I should like for you to tell me?” she said, with feeble remonstrance. “To the De Veres, of course; the people papa got her from,” answered Emmie, recklessly. “I’ll bet that man knows all about her, anyway, for papa says, you remember, that Thea took to him the minute she opened her eyes on the train that day, and of course if she had not known him already she would have been timid and huffish as she was with the others.” CHAPTER XXVIII. Verelands was looking its fairest that October morning when George Hinton’s letter to Norman de Vere came into it like a thunder-clap falling from a seemingly clear sky. It was almost thirteen years ago that the De Veres had quitted their beautiful home, with something almost akin to the sorrow of Adam and Eve in leaving Eden, so dear was the old ancestral home to their hearts. Leaving Sweetheart with the Hintons, they had journeyed northward, the young man seeking a career in life, and the mother only wishing to be near her son. A wealthy tenant was soon found for Verelands, and the rent was forwarded yearly to Camille’s lawyer to liquidate the amount she had spent in improving the estate immediately following her marriage with Norman. At first there had come letters of protest from the banished wife, but Norman had returned them to her without comment, and the rent continued to be forwarded to her lawyer. Now and then, too, as he began to prosper in the profession of journalism, which he had chosen, he found means to add to the amount sent to Camille, for the weight of his indebtedness to her weighed sorely on his proud spirit.