"Mother--" Jack breathed at length.

"Caroline!" breathed Judge Harvey. Then added: "I'm sure it--it'll never become known."

"Oh, to think it's all over--and we're out of it!" Olivetta cried hysterically. "Oh! Oh!" And she limply pitched sidewise in her chair.

"Mees Harmon--Olivetta!" exclaimed M. Dubois. He sprang forward, knelt at her side and supported her wilted figure against his bosom.

Upon this poultice to her troubles Olivetta relaxed and sobbed unrestrainedly. And no one, particularly Mrs. De Peyster, paid the least heed to this little episode.

William, the coachman, the irreproachable, irreplaceable, unbendable William, his clean-shaven mask of a face now somewhat pale--William took a few respectful paces toward his resurrected mistress.

"If you will not regard it as a liberty," said he, with his cadence of a prime minister, "I should like to express my relief and happiness at your restoration among us."

"Thank you--William," whispered Mrs. De Peyster.

William, having delivered his felicitations, bowed slightly, and started to turn away. But Matilda had stepped forward behind him, an imploring look upon her face.

"Please, ma'am,--please, ma'am!" said she, in a tone that left no doubt as to her meaning.

"Wait, William," weakly commanded Mrs. De Peyster.

William paused.

Mrs. De Peyster did not yet know what she was doing; her words spoke themselves.

"William, Matilda has--has just confessed your engagement. She has also confessed how, during my--my absence--one night, after driving with you, she--she lost control of herself and seriously offended you.

She asks me to apologize to you and tell you how very, very sorry she is."

"Indeed, I am, William!" put in Matilda fervently.

"It is my wish, William," continued Mrs. De Peyster, "that you should forgive her--and make up things between you--and never speak of that incident again--and be happy and stay with me forever."

Matilda timidly slipped an arm through William's.

"Forgive me, William!" said she appealingly.

William's graven face exhibited a strange phenomenon--it twitched slightly.

"Thank you, Mrs. De Peyster," said he. And bowing respectfully, with Matilda upon his arm, he went out.

"Well, Mary, I guess we'd better be going, too," said Jack, taking his wife's hand. "Mother,"--respectfully, yet a little defiantly,--"I'm sorry that Mary and I have by our trespa.s.sing caused you so much inconvenience. But Mary and I and our things will be out of the house within an hour. Good-bye."

"Wait, Jack!" Mrs. De Peyster reached up a trembling hand and caught his sleeve. "Olivetta," said she, "perhaps you and your--your fiance could find--another place for your confidences."

"Oh!" exclaimed Olivetta, starting up with a flush.

"Cousin Caroline, do you mean--"

Mrs. De Peyster lifted an interrupting hand.

"Do as you like, but tell me about it later."

As the pair went out, Mrs. De Peyster slowly raised herself up and stood gazing for a moment at her son. And that strange new force which had menaced her with eruption during all the days of her hiding, and which these last few minutes had been pulsing upward toward o.r.g.a.s.m, was now become resistless. It was as though a crust, a sh.e.l.l, were being burst and being violently shed. She thrilled with an amazing, undreamed-of, expanding warmth.

"Do you really--want to--leave me, Jack?" she whispered.

"I have been invited to leave," said he, "but I have never been invited to come back."

With a timidity, shot through with tingling daring, she slipped an arm about his shoulders.

"Then I invite you," she said tremulously. "Won't you stay, Jack?"

"And Mary?" said he.

She looked about at her dark-eyed daughter-in-law.

"If Mary will stay, too, I'll--I'll try not to act like my petrified family tree."

"What! Was that you that day?" gasped the horrified Mary.

Mrs. De Peyster slipped her other arm about Mary, and daringly she kissed Mary's fresh young cheek, and she drew the two tightly, almost convulsively, to her. "Mother!" cried Jack; and the next instant the two pairs of arms were about her. And thus they stood for several moments; until--

"Caroline," broke in the unsteady but determined voice of Judge Harvey, "I told you I was going to propose to you again. And I'm going to do it right now. Please consider yourself proposed to."

She looked up--shamefaced, flushing.

"What, after the foolish woman I've--"

"If you were ever foolish, you were never less a fool than now!"

"I don't know about that," she quavered, "but anyhow I want you to straighten out my affairs--and--and Allistair, for all I care, can have--can have--for I'm all through--"

"Caroline!"

The next moment Judge Harvey's arms had usurped complete possession of her. And she wilted away upon his shoulder, and sobbed there. And thus for several moments....

They were aroused by a polite cough. Both looked up. Halfway to the door stood Mr. Pyecroft; and beside him was Miss Gardner, gazing at him, tremulously bewildered.

"Pardon me," said he, in his grave manner; nothing was ever seen less suggestive of having ever smiled than his face--"pardon me, Judge Harvey, but I believe you failed to mention at what time your office opens."

"What time my office opens?" Judge Harvey repeated blankly. "Why?"

"Naturally," said Mr. Pyecroft, "I wish to know at what hour I am supposed to report for work."

"Well--Well--"

But for a moment Judge Harvey could get out no more. He just stared.

Then in a voice of dryest sarcasm: "Would you consider it impudent on my part--I wouldn't be impudent for the world, you know--to inquire what might be your real name? I have heard you variously called Mr.