I didn’t offer the boy the upshot of my own speculations, which was that a sudden suspicion had sprung up in the old woman’s mind that her grandson was in league with his mother, and that the original suggestion, that he be given the pearls to hide, had come from her. Punch didn’t see anything more of his mother that day, until he came down into the drawing-room dressed for dinner, where he found her talking to Judy. They went right on talking, somewhat enigmatically, after they’d seen him come in, so he had felt entitled to listen and make what he could of it. They both looked as if the conversation had been rather exciting. But Judy was speaking now more affectionately than was her wont. It was as if they’d made up a quarrel about something. “But of _course_ I will, mother! I understand, and I’ll do it exactly. You leave it to me. I won’t give anybody a chance at it, old Eagle-Eye or any one else. And please don’t bother about it, mother. It isn’t as if I cared.” “You’re a queer child,” her mother said. “Is it really true that you don’t care?” “Not the smallest conceivable--damn!” said Judy. She smiled a very small smile, and added “I don’t know about Bruce, though. You may have to square me with him.” “You’ll have no trouble squaring yourself with him,” her mother told her. There must have been, Punch thought, some significance in the words that Judy didn’t like, for she turned sharply away, and he saw that her face had flushed. But Uncle Alec came into the room just then and that talk was over. He’d arrived only about an hour before. Punch was inclined to approve of his long lost uncle. He was quite jolly, and kept them entertained through what would otherwise have been a pretty painful dinner, with Gran up at the head of the table still in the frame of mind she’d been in after her quarrel with her daughter-in-law. He told them about his tobacco plantation, and his plans for growing rubber, and spun a few delightfully bloodcurdling tales about Moros and Igorots. Then, just as everything was going so well, he went off the deep end by saying something about Judy’s necklace. He’d been reading yesterday’s paper in the train. Punch didn’t know how the quarrel flared up again. Everybody went on trying to be polite for a while, but it wasn’t long before the fat was in the fire. He fastened his eyes upon his plate and tried not to listen to the blistering things his grandmother was saying. Uncle Alec was horrified, of course. He did his best to pacify his mother, but without avail. And finally Punch’s mother got up and left the room. He wasn’t surprised. He only wondered that she’d stood it as long as she did. He didn’t see her again that evening, and when he came down to breakfast next day Belden, the old butler, told him she’d gone to town on the early train and was coming back with the guests on the special car that afternoon.