"You dear! I knew you would!" she breathed. "Yes; but what is it?" he groaned in mock despair. "Speak out. I want to know the worst at once. What _am_ I to do?" "Please, you're to go up to Dalton and tell Mr. Burke Denby you think you've found a young woman who will make him an excellent secretary. Then, if he consents to try her, you're to find a little furnished apartment on a nice, quiet street, not too far from the Denby Mansion, of course, where we can live. Then I'd like a note of introduction for Betty to take to her father: she's the daughter of an old friend whom you've known for years--see?--and you are confident she will give satisfaction. That's all. Now, I'm sure--isn't all that quite--easy?" "Oh, very easy,--very easy, indeed!" replied the doctor, with another groan. "You little witch! I declare I believe you'll carry this absurd, preposterous thing through to a triumphant finish, after all." "Thank you. I _knew_ you wouldn't fail me," smiled Helen, with tear-wet eyes. "But, my dear, I don't think yet that everything is quite clear," demurred Mrs. Thayer. "How about Betty? Just what does Betty know of her father?" A look very like fear crossed the bright face opposite. "She knows nothing, of course, of--of my leaving home and the cause of it. I've never told her anything of her father except to hold him up as a symbol of everything good and lovable. When she was a little girl, you know, I could always do anything with her by just telling her that daddy wanted it so." "But where does she think he is? Now that she is older, she must have asked some questions," murmured Mrs. Thayer. Helen shook her head. A faint smile came to her lips. "She hasn't; but I've been so afraid she would, and I've been dreading it always. Then one day Mrs. Reynolds told me something Betty said to her. Since then I've felt a little easier." "Does Mrs. Reynolds know who you really are?" interposed the doctor. "Yes, oh, yes. I told her long ago--even before she took me to London with her, in fact. I thought she ought to know. I've been so glad, since, that I did. It saved me from lots of awkward moments. Besides, it enabled her to be all the more help to me." "But what was it Betty said to her?" asked Mrs. Thayer. "Oh, yes; I didn't tell you, did I? It was this. She asked Mrs. Reynolds one day: 'Did you ever know my father?' And of course Mrs. Reynolds said, 'No.' Then Betty said: 'He is dead, you know. Oh, mother never told me so, in words; but I understand that he is, of course. She just used to say that I mustn't ask for daddy. He couldn't be with us now. That was all. At first, when I was little, I thought he was away on a journey. Then, when I got older, I realized it was just mother's beautiful way of putting it. So now I like to think of him as being just away on a journey. And of _course_ I never say anything to mother. But I do wish I could have known him. He must have been so fine and splendid!'"