“I’m afraid so,” the gentle-mannered lady returned. “Of course that’s a great pity, too, in such a new little community where people are bound to be thrown together a great deal. Don’t you think it’s a great pity, Mrs. Sperry?” “Oh—naturally,” Bella acquiesced. “Yes, indeed.” “I knew you would. Of course it’s just thoughtlessness—most of the people who live there are so young—but we heard a really dreadful story only yesterday. It came from a _very_ young newly-married couple, and my husband and I were _so_ sorry to hear they’d started out by telling such dreadful things about their neighbours. Don’t you think it’s most unwise, Mrs. Sperry?” Mrs. Sullender’s voice, wholly unruffled, and as indomitably tender as ever, gave no intimation that she spoke with a peculiar significance; but William Sperry was profoundly alarmed, and, with a sympathy that held no triumph in it, he knew that Bella was in a similar or worse condition. “Ye-es,” Bella murmured. “Of—of course I do.” “I knew you _would_ feel that way,” said Mrs. Sullender soothingly. “It’s unwise, because gossip travels so. It nearly always goes straight back to the people it’s about. In fact, I don’t believe I ever knew of one single case where it didn’t. Did you, Mrs. Sperry?” “I—I don’t—that is, well, no,” Bella stammered. “No. It’s _so_ unwise!” Mrs. Sullender insisted, with a little murmur of tender laughter. Then she took the arm of her solemn and silent husband, and they turned together toward the gate, but paused. “Oh, I’d meant to tell you, Mrs. Sperry——” “Uh—yes?” “That dear little boy Georgie—the little boy you were chatting with the other morning when I called him in to play with my little girl—you remember, Mrs. Sperry?” “Yes!” Bella gasped. “I thought you made such friends with him you’d be sorry to know you won’t see him any more.” “No?” “No,” Mrs. Sullender cooed gently. “Poor little Georgie Goble!” “Georgie—who?” “Georgie Goble,” said Mrs. Sullender. “He was Goble, our chauffeur’s little boy. They lived over our garage and had quite a distressing time of it, poor things! The wife finally persuaded Goble to move to another town where she thinks chauffeurs’ pay is higher. I was sure you’d be sorry to hear the poor dear little boy had gone. They left yesterday. Good night. Good night, Mr. Sperry.” With that, followed by somewhat feeble good-nights from both the Sperrys, she passed through the gate with her husband, and a moment later disappeared in the clean dusk of “Highland Place.” Then Bella turned to her troubled William. “She—she certainly made it pl-plain!” “Yes,” he said. “But after all, she really did let us down pretty easy.” “‘Us,’” the young wife demanded sharply. “Did you say ‘_Us?_’” “Yes,” he answered. “I think she let us down about as easy as we could have expected.”