This reference to her made Doris decide to creep a step or two nearer. She had heard enough to convince her that Henry and Ronald were conspiring against Azalea and Iris, the two trusting, flower-like ladies! She strained forward to catch more of the conversation. CHAPTER X MEMORIES However, Doris was to learn no more that night, for as she moved softly down the stairs the two men pushed back their chairs. “You’d better be gettin’ out of here before those old gals find out what we’re doing,” he warned. “I’ll let you out the back way.” They moved on to the kitchen and Doris, made bold by her knowledge of the underhanded scheme, came down into the living room. She heard the back door close as Ronald Trent hurriedly departed. A moment later, as the gate creaked, Wags gave another savage yelp. Not until she heard Henry starting up the back stairs to his own quarters, did Doris dare venture to the door. Waiting until everything was still again, she quietly let herself out of doors. Wags whimpered joyfully as she stooped down to unfasten him, and lifted up his paws. Doris picked him up, and holding him close, stole back into the house. She closed and locked the door behind her and listened. The coast seemed clear. “Don’t you dare bark!” she whispered to Wags. Tiptoeing up the stairway, she anxiously wondered if she could reach her room without being discovered. “Azalea and Iris are probably asleep by this time,” she thought. In this supposition she was not correct. The Misses Gates were at that moment lying wide awake in their adjoining rooms in the left wing, recalling vivid memories of their girlhood when each hoped to be the bride of the handsome John Trent. Only a few close friends had understood why Doris’s uncle had gone away without marrying either of the twins, for by turns he had appeared in love with each of them. Some people had jokingly remarked that he could not tell them apart and that this was his reason for giving them up. At any rate, he had never been able to choose between them and had gone away, leaving heart-breaks behind. For Azalea and Iris the locked gates at the front entrance to the mansion were symbolic of a past which could never be forgotten. With the passing of the years, the Misses Gates clung tightly to their memories, and the appearance of John Trent’s son had only served to freshen them. Perhaps in Ronald Trent they saw their lover of old. At any rate, they doted upon him and were flattered by his extravagant compliments. Believing that he was indeed the son of John Trent, they could not see his cheapness or his crude devices for gaining their favor. They regarded him indulgently, as a mother might her son. Shut away from the world by their own wishes, Azalea and Iris lived only for their dreams. Wickedness was to them nebulous and unreal. They had trusted Ronald Trent because it was in their nature to trust.