“You will go with me, anyway, Anita,” he said, with an air of authority. “I must take care of you. We will go, as I planned. The minister I told you of, is a great and good man, he will advise you—” “Oh, no, I don’t want to talk to a minister!” “Yes, you do. And his wife is a dear good woman. They will take you into their hearts and home—and then we can all decide what to do. At any rate, you must get away from here. Come, now, pack your bag—and would you mind—Anita—if I ask you not to take the—the money and the ruby pin—” “But he gave them to me! I tell you, Gordon, John Waring gave me those of his own free will—” “Because of his affection for you?” “Yes; for no other reason! I will keep the pin, anyway—I will!” “Anita, have you any idea how you puzzle me? how you torture me? Well, take what you like. Will you get ready now, and I will let you know as soon as I can, how and when we can start.” A loud rap was followed by an immediate opening of the door, and Mrs. Adams came into the room. She stared at Lockwood, but made no comment on his presence there. “Miss Austin,” she began, “I do not wish you to stay in my house any longer. I have kept you until now, because my husband was so sorry for you, and refused to turn you out. Nor am I turning you out, but—I wish you would leave us alone, Mr. Lockwood.” Gordon started to speak, but Anita interrupted him. “Go, please,” she said, quietly, and Lockwood obeyed. “I cannot blame you, Mrs. Adams,” Miss Mystery said; “I daresay you have to consider your other boarders, and I thank you for your kindness and forbearance you have shown me so far.” The tears were in the big dark eyes, and even as they moved Mrs. Adams to sympathy, she also wondered if they were real. “A girl who would redden her lips would be capable of any deceit and duplicity,” Esther Adams reasoned. But she went on, calmly. “I come now, Miss Austin, to tell you that Mr. Trask is down stairs and wants to see you. He wants you to go to his house to stay. The Peytons are there, of course, and he offers you the shelter of his roof and protection until this dreadful matter is settled up.” “Mr. Trask!” Anita looked her amazement. “Yes; now don’t be silly. You very well know he is mad about you, and he hopes to get you freed and then marry you.” “Oh, he does!” It was the old, scornful Miss Mystery who spoke. “Well, will you please tell him from me—” “Now, don’t you be too hoity-toity, miss! You’re mighty lucky to have a home offered you—” “Yes, that’s quite true. Well, Mrs. Adams, will you go down, then and say I’ll be down in a moment or two. Give me time to freshen my appearance a bit.” “Yes, with paints and powders and cosmetics!” Esther Adams grumbled to herself, as she went down the stairs. As a matter of fact she quite misjudged the girl. Very rarely did Anita resort to artificial aid of that sort, but when she so desired, she used it as she would any other personal adornment.