The suspicion in Mrs. Cobb's eyes became swift conviction. An angry red stained her cheeks--but it was not anger at Helen. That was clearly to be seen. "Look a-here, Mis' Denby," she began resolutely, "I'm a plain woman, and I always speak right out. And I'm your friend, too, and I ain't goin' ter stand by and see you made a fool of, and not try ter lift a hand ter help. There's somethin' wrong here. If you don't know it, it's time you did. If you _do_ know it, and are tryin' ter keep it from me, you might just as well stop right now, and turn 'round and tell me all about it. As I said before, I'm your friend, and--if it's what I think it is--you'll _need_ a friend, you poor little thing! Now, what is it?" Helen shook her head feebly. Her face went from white to red, and back again to white. Still determined to keep her secret if possible, she made a brave attempt to regain her old airiness of manner. "Why, Mrs. Cobb, it's nothing--nothing at all!" Mrs. Cobb exploded into voluble wrath. "Nothin', is it?--when a man goes kitin' off ter Alaska, and sendin' his wife ten thousand dollars ter go somewheres else in the opposite direction! Maybe you think I don't know what that means. But I do! And he's tryin' ter play a mean, snivelin' trick on ye, and I ain't goin' ter stand for it. I never did like him, with all his fine, lordly airs, a-thinkin' himself better than anybody else what walked the earth. But if I can help it, I ain't goin' ter see you cheated out of your just deserts." "_Mrs. Cobb!_" expostulated the dismayed, dumfounded wife; but Mrs. Cobb had yet more to say. "I tell you they're rich--them Denbys be--rich as mud; and as for pokin' you off with a measly ten thousand dollars, they shan't--and you with a baby ter try ter bring up and edyercate. The idea of your standin' for a separation with only ten thousand--" "Separation!" interrupted Helen indignantly, as soon as she could find her voice. "It isn't a separation. Why, we never thought of such a thing;--not for--for _always_, the way you mean it." "What is it, then?" "Why, it's just a--a playday," stammered Helen, still trying to cling to the remnant of her secret. "He _said_ it was a playday--that I was to go off and have a good time with Baby." "If it's just a playday, why didn't he give it to you ter take it _tergether_, then? Tell me that!" "Why, he--he's going with his father." "You bet he is," retorted Mrs. Cobb grimly. "And he's goin' ter keep with his father, too." "What do you mean?" Helen's lips were very white. Mrs. Cobb gave an impatient gesture. "Look a-here, child, do you think I'm blind? Don't ye s'pose I know how you folks have been gettin' along tergether?--or, rather, _not_ gettin' along tergether? Don't ye s'pose I know how he acts as if you wasn't the same breed o' cats with him?" "Then you've seen--I mean, you think he's--ashamed of me?" faltered Helen.