"She said she was glad; that she wanted only you, anyway." "_Wanted only--!_ Comes here at this time of night with a bag and a baby, refuses to give her name, and says I'll understand!" snarled the doctor. "Oh, come, Hawkins, this is some colossal mistake, or a fool hoax, or-- What kind of looking specimen is she?" Hawkins, who had known the doctor from his Knickerbocker days, was guilty of a slow grin. "She's a--a very good looker, sir." "Oh, she is! Well--er, tell her I can't possibly see her; that I've gone to bed--away--sick--something! Anything! Tell her she'll have to see Mrs. Thayer." "Yes, sir." Still the man made no move to go. "She--er--beg pardon, sir--but she'll be that cut up, I fear, sir. You see, she's been cryin'. And she's young--very young." "Crying!" "Yes, sir. And she was that powerful anxious to see you, sir. I had hard work to keep her from coming _with_ me. I did, sir. She's in the hall. And--it's raining outside, sir." "Oh, good Heavens! Well, bring her in," capitulated the doctor in obvious desperation. "Yes, sir." This time the words were scarcely out of his mouth before the old man was gone. In an incredibly short time he was back with a flushed-faced, agitated young woman carrying a sleeping child in her arms. At sight of her, the doctor, who had plainly braced himself behind a most forbidding aspect, leaped forward with a low cry and a complete change of manner. "_Mrs. Denby!_" he gasped. But instantly he fell back; for the young woman, for all the world like a tenpenny-dreadful stage heroine, hissed out a tragic "Sh-h! I don't want anybody to know my name!" with a cautious glance toward the none-too-rapidly disappearing Hawkins. "But what does this mean?" demanded Frank Gleason, when he could find words. "Where's Burke?" "He's left me." "Left you! Impossible!" "Yes." She drew in her breath convulsively. "He says it's only to Alaska with his father; but that's just to let me down easy." "Oh, but, Mrs. Denby--" "You needn't try to make me think any different," she interposed wearily, sinking into the chair the doctor placed for her; "'cause you can't. I've been over everything you could say. All the way down here I didn't have anything to do only just to think and think. And I see now--such lots of things that I never saw before." "But, why--how do you know--what made you think he has--left you?" stammered the doctor. "Because he's ashamed of me; and--" "Oh, Mrs. Denby!" "You don't have to say anything about that, either," said Mrs. Denby very quietly. And before the dumb agony in the eyes turned full upon him, he fell silent. "There ain't any question as to what _has_ been done; it's just what I'm _going_ to _do_," she went on wearily again. "He sent me ten thousand dollars--Burke's father did; and--" "John Denby sent you ten thousand dollars!" exploded the doctor, sitting erect.