"Indeed? Well, she's mine, too, and this minute I'm on my way to see her." Miss Lacey made the declaration impressively. "He ought to be here himself. But I won't shirk my duty if he does his. She's come clear from Illinois, and I don't know what for. I wish I was like some folks and could let her shift for herself; but she isn't twenty yet, and I haven't got the heart. I haven't been smart, I saw that afterward; for if I'd gone to Judge Trent and just said I was too poor to do anything for Sylvia and stuck to it, and carried matters with a high hand and told him I wasn't going near her, he'd have had to. I see that as plain as day now, but he came at me with the good news about my money, and kind of sidled me toward the door, and while I was gasping and trying to realize it, the first thing I knew I was downstairs." Dunham received her injured look with a nod as she paused. "I live all alone," she went on, and John wondered who then customarily received her flow of conversation; "and all this sudden business is a great disturbance to me. I've laid awake over the matter, and prayed over it, and here I am, not knowing yet what I'm going to do." She fell silent. She could not tell this stranger that it was the ne'er-do-well character of her only brother which caused her panic at the mere hint of taking the responsibility of his daughter, many years motherless and the companion of his wholly slipshod methods of life. In years past Calvin Trent had been wont to say it was like pouring water into a sieve to endeavor to help Sam Lacey. While Miss Martha was indulging in a resume of the dismal situation her companion took a folded memorandum from an inside pocket and scanned it. * * * * * "Girl at Hotel Frisbie. "Name Sylvia Lacey. "Age nineteen. "Her mother, my sister, dead for ten years. "Her father, recently deceased, an alleged artist, a rolling stone and a scapegrace all his life. "Be present at interview between Miss Martha Lacey and the girl. "Let Miss Martha take the lead." * * * * * There were a few further instructions, but Miss Lacey here broke in upon the reading. "I'm going to ask you to do one more gallant thing for me, Sir Walter." "I'm ready." "Put me on the right car for Hotel Frisbie. The Boston street-cars are a hopeless muddle to me,--always were and always will be." "I'll escort you to the hotel." "Oh, that's too kind!" exclaimed Miss Martha. "I'm not quite _non compos_. I can get out all right. It's the getting _in_ that's the puzzle." "But I have to go there myself. Judge Trent thought you might need a lieutenant. He has sent me to help you." The color rushed to Miss Martha's face. Calvin was thinking of her, after all. Her eyes glistened with sudden hope. "What is he willing to do?" she demanded.