"Oh, but, my dear," remonstrated Mrs. Thayer with genuine concern. "I do think this is impossible." The expression on Helen Denby's face changed instantly. Her eyes grew very grave, but luminously tender. Her lips trembled a little. "People, dear people, if you'll listen just a minute I think I can convince you," she begged. "I have it all planned out. Betty and I will go to Dalton and find a quiet little home somewhere. Oh, I shall keep well out of sight--never fear," she nodded, in reply to the quick doubt in the doctor's eyes. "Betty shall go every morning to her father's house, and--I'm not afraid of Betty. He will love her. He can't help it. And he will see how dear and sweet and good she is. Then, by and by, he shall know that she is his--his very own." "But--but Betty herself! Can she act her part in this remarkable scheme?" demanded the doctor. "She won't be acting a part. She'll just be acting herself. She is not to know anything except that she is his secretary." "Impossible!" ejaculated two voices. "I don't think so. Anyway, it's worth trying; and if it works it'll mean--everything." The last word was so low it was scarcely above a whisper. "But--yourself, my dear," pleaded Mrs. Thayer. "Where do you come in? What part have you in this--play?" The rich red surged from neck to brow. The doctor and his sister could see that, though they could not see Helen Denby's face. It was turned quite away. There was a moment's silence; then, a little breathlessly, came the answer. "I--don't--know. I suppose that will be--the 'curtain,' won't it? And--I've never been sure of the ending--yet. But--" She hesitated; then suddenly she turned, her eyes shining and deeply tender. "Don't you see? It's the only way, after all. I can't very well go up to Dalton and ring his doorbell and say, 'Here, behold your wife and daughter. Won't you please take us in?'--can I? Though at first, when I heard of his father's death and thought of him so lonely there, I did want to do--just that. But I knew that wasn't best, even before your letter came telling me--what he said. "But now--why, this is just what I've wanted from the first--to show Betty to him, some time, when he didn't dream who she was. I wanted to _know_ that he wasn't--ashamed of her. And this (his wanting a secretary) gave me a better chance than I ever thought I could have. Why, people, dear people, don't you see?--with this I shan't mind now one bit all these long, long years of waiting. Won't you help me--please? I can't, of course, do it without your help." The doctor threw up both his hands--his old gesture of despair. "Help you? Of course we'll help you, just as we did before--to get the moon, if you ask for it. I feel like a comic opera and a movie farce all in one; but never mind. I'll do it. Now, what is it I _am_ to do?" Helen relaxed into such radiant joyousness and relief, that she looked almost like the girl Burke Denby had married nineteen years before.