“No,” answered Mrs. Thorstad, “I came up to St. Pierre on Friday night.” She seated herself in the chair Gage brought for her, a little uneasily, with a righteous wriggle of her thin body. Her husband and Gage stood together exchanging a few commonplace remarks. The air was electric. Surprisingly, it was Mr. Thorstad who began. “We are sorry to intrude upon you on this Sunday afternoon but our errand is pressing and it will be best to make it clear at once. My daughter has been employed in your office, Mr. Flandon.” “Yes?” “My wife came from Chicago to pay her a brief visit. She found that Freda had gone away, leaving no address with any one. We are very much concerned--greatly disturbed. My wife went at once to your office and there saw your partner--Mr. Sable, is it?” Gage inclined his head--“You were not there. I believe Freda was directly in your employ. Mr. Sable tells my wife that Freda resigned her place on Friday morning. Questioning him we find that she was asked to resign--that,” he paused and spoke with difficulty, though still calmly, “that rumors subversive to her character have been afloat. She has disappeared, Mr. Flandon.” The stoop in his shoulders had somehow straightened. He was as tall as Gage as he looked at him with restraint and yet with indictment. “Do you know where my daughter is, Mr. Flandon?” He stopped. Mrs. Thorstad edged to the side of her chair, foot tapping nervously on the floor, eyes on Gage. Helen’s eyes were on him too, though there was no change in her attitude. She had not paled or flushed. It might have been the most casual of conversations. The second before Gage’s answer weighed on all of them. He looked as if he were pondering something--then back at Mr. Thorstad. His voice was even and controlled. “No, Mr. Thorstad, I don’t know where your daughter is.” “Why did she leave your office?” “She was discharged by my partner in my absence, most unjustly, for preposterous suspicions. I shall do my best to reinstate her.” “It will not be necessary, sir.” Mrs. Thorstad could bear it no longer. “And what were these suspicions?” She waited for no answer, turning quickly on Helen. “I went to see Mrs. Brownley to find out if she could tell me and her attitude is most peculiar--most peculiar. She insinuated that I should give up my work to keep watch over my daughter. She cast reflections on me as a mother. I told her that I had always upheld the strictest doctrines of the home and the family, that I had always insisted on a moral purity before everything else. That I should be so treated amazed me! My daughter has always had the strictest upbringing. What ideas of modern license she had absorbed from contact with this Miss Duffield I am sure I don’t know. I always objected to that woman. I asked Miss Duffield about it this morning. She doesn’t know where Freda is--at least, she says she doesn’t. Well--who does? You took her into your office, Mr. Flandon, you exposed her to this gossip--”