"Do you think Miss Meredith won’t keep it up where we are concerned?" asked Elma anxiously. "It would be a little sad if she didn’t, wouldn’t it? Like deceiving us to begin with; and now she may be deceiving Mrs. Clutterbuck." "Oh, I don’t know. She may work wonders with the Professor. It must be pure goodness that prompts her, dear." "She must be used to being taken coldly," said Elma. "The Professor glares at her, and Elsie charges straight out to the back garden every time she calls." "Is Mr. Symington there now?" asked Miss Grace. "No, he left in two days. Papa was charmed with him. He and the Professor and papa had an evening together when we were all at the Gardiners, and Mrs. Clutterbuck came too. Papa says Mr. Symington will make a name for himself one day. He is coming back to Ridgetown for a summer, some time soon, he liked it so much." If only for the sudden interest taken by the Merediths in the Clutterbucks, it seemed necessary that they should become very much a part of the Leightons’ life just then. But nothing could thaw the demeanour of Elsie. Dr. Merryweather found her improved slightly, but there were signs that she fretted inordinately. Nothing she did was what other girls did, and she was quite beyond the abstracted influences of her parents. Adelaide Maud met the Professor. "I hear you have a perfect little duck of a daughter," said she airily. "Ha, hm," exclaimed the Professor, quite irresponsible in the matter of English for the moment. He had no real words for such a situation. "Aren’t you awfully proud of her?" asked Adelaide Maud. The Professor recovered. That word "awfully!" It made him forget this new version of his daughter. "So you are also in this conspiracy," whispered Lance afterwards to Adelaide Maud. "It’s no good. A bomb under that fanatic is all that will move him." But in the meantime Elsie made some moves for herself. The Leightons were interested in their own affairs. Cuthbert was away, and Mr. Leighton had to make a run to London. He took Mabel with him and that occurrence was exciting enough in itself. As though to show up the helplessness of a family left without a man in the house, however, one night the maids roused every one in alarm. A burglar, it seems, was trying to get in at the pantry window. The girls, who were getting ready for bed, went quaking to their mother’s room. Very frightened and most carefully they made their way to the vicinity of the pantry. There was certainly to be heard a faint shuffling. "See’d him as plain as day, Miss, leaning up against the window. He moved some flower pots, and stood on ’em." "Lock the kitchen door, telephone for the police, and light the gas," said Jean in a strained whisper. She immediately obeyed her own orders by telephoning herself in a quick deep undertone, "Man at the pantry window trying to get in." Then she took the taper from the shaking hands of Betty.