"Look here, Nelly," he protested, "aren't you rather overdoing this adopted-mother business?" She found the child rather flushed and in an uneasy doze. Instantly she was anxious. "Don't leave him, Sarah," she said. "I'll have Maggie bring your dinner up to you. Oh, I _wish_ I didn't have to go downstairs!" "I'm afraid he is worse," she told Lloyd Pryor with a worried frown. "Well, don't look as if it were an affair of nations," he said carelessly, and drew her down on the sofa beside him. He was so gracious to her, that she forgot David; but she quivered for fear the graciousness should cease. She was like a thirsty creature, drinking with eager haste, lest some terror should drive her back into the desert. But Lloyd Pryor continued to be gracious; he talked gayly of this or that; he told her one or two stories that had been told him in a directors' meeting or on a journey, and he roared with appreciation of their peculiar humor. She flushed; but she made herself laugh. Then she began tentatively to say something of Old Chester; and--and what did he think? "That old man, who lives up on the hill, called, and--" But he interrupted her. "You are very beguiling, Nelly, but I am afraid I must be thinking of the stage--it is after three. Before I go I just want to say--" then he broke off. "Come in! Well? What is it?" he demanded impatiently. "Please, ma'am," said Sarah, standing in the doorway, her face puckered almost to tears, "David's woke up, and he's crying, and I can't do nothing with him. He wants you, ma'am." "Oh, poor darling! Tell him I'll come right up," Mrs. Richie said, rising in quick distress. "Nonsense!" said Lloyd Pryor, sharply. "Sarah, tell the boy to behave himself. Mrs. Richie can't come now." Sarah hurried up-stairs, but Helena stood in painful indecision. "Oh, Lloyd, I _must_ go! I'll just sit with him a minute!" "You'll just sit with me a minute," he said calmly. "Be sensible, Helena. I want to speak to you about something." But she did not hear him; she was listening for David's voice. A little whimpering cry reached her, and the tears sprung to her eyes. "Lloyd! I must. He is crying." "Let him cry." "He's takin' on so, please come up, ma'am," came Sarah's entreating voice from over the banisters in the upper hall. "Oh, Lloyd, I must!" She turned; but he, springing up, caught her wrist and pulled her to him. "Don't be a fool." "Let me go! Oh, how cruel you are!" She tried to wrench her wrist from his grasp. "I hate you!" "Hate me, do you?" He laughed, and catching her in his arms, kissed her again and again. Then he put his hands in his pockets and stepped back, leaving her free. "Will you go?" She stood, vibrating between surprised affection and anguished longing for the child. "Lloyd!" she said faintly; she put her hands over her face, and came towards him slowly, shivering a little, and murmuring "_Lloyd!_" Then, with a sudden gasp, she turned and fled up-stairs. "David--I am coming--"