“Please do not be troubled. I want your mind to be at rest. Your mother may come to this town, but you will not know it; you need not see her. If she comes she will go again very quickly. She will not”--and he glanced about the room--“she will not honour this house with her presence.” He rose clumsily, and turned to leave. His manner, his voice, had reassured her. She called to him softly as he moved toward the door, and he paused and faced her. She walked slowly toward him, scarcely knowing what she did, and put out her hand. Her lips quivered; tears shone in her eyes. “I know you are a good woman,” he said simply, and left her. CHAPTER XXIV JEAN ANSWERS A QUESTION Wayne had not appeared for dinner, nor had he shown himself at all during the evening. In the morning, however, when Mrs. Craighill and Jean came down he was waiting for them in the library. “Your father is coming in at nine o’clock, and I shall meet him with the car. You and Miss Morley had better go in to breakfast now; I will have a cup of coffee with you.” Jean was to remain until Mrs. Craighill returned with her husband; this had already been stipulated. Mrs. Craighill had made sure of the girl; their evening together had afforded ample opportunity for the strengthening of ties of amity. She had tested Jean in her own way and found her singularly guileless. In the quiet of Mrs. Craighill’s sitting room she had thrown open doors that revealed the narrow vistas of a happy girlhood; and a certain forlornness due to Jean’s identification, in Mrs. Craighill’s mind, with wet shoes and shabby, bedraggled skirts, yielded to the charm of the girl’s simplicity and candour. It was a revelation to Adelaide Craighill that anyone to whom fortune had flung so few scraps could bring so brave a spirit to the patching together of an existence. She was herself testing the reticulated threads which events had, within a week, woven into an inexplicable pattern. She wore her hat to the breakfast table and watched coldly the pains Wayne took to interest the girl beside him. It was to Jean’s credit, however, that she seemed properly embarrassed by Wayne’s interest. She turned often to Mrs. Craighill and laughed sparingly at Wayne’s chaff. Wayne was conscious enough of Mrs. Craighill’s displeasure. A man who has played the rôle of love’s adventurer and is at home in the part, does not expect to be a hero to two women at the same table. Wayne saw Mrs. Craighill off in the motor. She did not ask him to accompany her or offer to carry him downtown. He returned to the table and concluded his breakfast. Jean rose at once when he had finished and went into the library where she sought refuge in a magazine; he took this as notice that his presence was not necessary, but after walking back and forth between the fire and the windows several times he sat down near her. “There’s something I should like to say to you.” “Well?” and she looked up without closing the magazine.