“There is nothing the matter, I tell you.” “Please don't be so silly. Of course there is. I thought there must be something wrong the last time you were here, that evening, when Ed called, too. It seemed to me that you were rather queer then. Now you are queerer still. What is it?” This straightforward attack, although absolutely characteristic of Helen, was disconcerting. Albert met it by an attack of his own. “Helen,” he demanded, “what does that Raymond fellow mean by coming to see you as he does?” Now whether or not Helen was entirely in the dark as to the cause of her visitor's “queerness” is a question not to be answered here. She was far from being a stupid young person and it is at least probable that she may have guessed a little of the truth. But, being feminine, she did not permit Albert to guess that she had guessed. If her astonishment at the question was not entirely sincere, it certainly appeared to be so. “What does he mean?” she repeated. “What does he mean by coming to see me? Why, what do YOU mean? I should think that was the question. Why shouldn't he come to see me, pray?” Now Albert has a dozen reasons in his mind, each of which was to him sufficiently convincing. But expressing those reasons to Helen Kendall he found singularly difficult. He grew confused and stammered. “Well--well, because he has no business to come here so much,” was the best he could do. Helen, strange to say, was not satisfied. “Has no business to?” she repeated. “Why, of course he has. I asked him to come.” “You did? Good heavens, you don't LIKE him, do you?” “Of course I like him. I think he is a very nice fellow. Don't you?” “No, I don't.” “Why not?” “Well--well, because I don't, that's all. He has no business to monopolize you all the time. Why, he is here about every night in the week, or you're out with him, down town, or--or somewhere. Everybody is talking about it and--” “Wait a minute, please. You say everybody is talking about Ed Raymond and me. What do you mean by that? What are they saying?” “They're saying. . . . Oh, they're saying you and he are--are--” “Are what?” “Are--are--Oh, they're saying all sorts of things. Look here, Helen, I--” “Wait! I want to know more about this. What have you heard said about me?” “Oh, a lot of things. . . . That is--er--well, nothing in particular, perhaps, but--” “Wait! Who have you heard saying it?” “Oh, never mind! Helen--” “But I do mind. Who have you heard saying this 'lot of things' about me?” “Nobody, I tell you. . . . Oh, well, if you must know, Issy Price said--well, he said you and this Raymond fellow were what he called 'keeping company' and--and that the whole town was talking about it.” She slowly shook her head. “Issy Price!” she repeated. “And you listened to what Issy Price said. Issy Price, of all people!” “Well--well, he said everyone else said the same thing.” “Did he say more than that?”