"What does this mean?" Truedale bent closer. The table had been painted white to serve as a floor for the dainty setting, and now, as he looked he saw stains--dark, tell-tale stains on the shining surface. They were tear-stains; Lynda, who so joyously put her heart and soul in the ideals for other homes, had wept over the nursery of another woman's child! For some reason Truedale was that day particularly open to impression. As he sat with the toy-like emblems before him, the holiest and strongest things of life seized upon him with terrific meaning. He drew out his watch and saw that it was the dinner hour and the still house proved that the mistress was yet absent. "There is only one person to whom she would go," he murmured. "I'll go to Betty's and bring Lynda home." He made an explanation to Thomas that covered the situation. "I found what the trouble was, Thomas," he said. "It will be all right when we get back. But don't keep dinner." He took a cab to Brace's. He was too distraught to put himself on exhibition in a public conveyance. Brace sat in lonely but apparently contented state at the head of his table. "Bully for you, old man," he greeted. "You were never more welcome. I'll have a plate put on for you at once. What's the matter? You look--" "Ken, where's Betty?" "Run away to herself, Con. Went yesterday. Goes less and less often, but she cut yesterday." "Has--has Lynda been here to-day?" "Yes. About three. When she found Betty gone, she wouldn't stay. Sit down, old man. You'll learn, as I have, to appreciate Lyn more if she isn't always where we men have thought women ought to be." Truedale sat down opposite Kendall but said he would take only a cup of coffee. When it was finished he rose, more steadily, and said quietly: "I know it's unwritten law, Ken, that we shouldn't follow Betty up without an invitation; but I've got to go over there to-night." "It's dangerous, old man. I advise against it. What's up?" "I must see Lyn. I believe she is there." "Rather a large-sized misunderstanding?" "I hope, Ken, God helping me, it's going to be the biggest _understanding_ Lynda and I have ever had." Kendall was impressed--and, consequently, silent. "I'm sure Betty will forgive me. Good-night." "Good-night, old chap, and--and whatever it is, I fancy it will come out all right." And then, into the night Truedale plunged--determined to master the absurd situation that both he and Lynda had permitted to exist. He felt like a man who had been suffering in a nightmare and had just awakened and shaken off the effect of the unholy dream. CHAPTER XIX