Tuesday morning Lynn slipped down to Carters with a little cake she had

made all white frosting and sprinkles of nuts. Her face was white but

brave with a smile, and she said her mother wanted to know how Mrs.

Carter's neuralgia was getting on.

But Mrs. Carter was the only one in the village perhaps who had not

heard the rumor, and she was gracious and pleased and said she wished

Mark was home, he loved nut cake so much.

"You know he was called back to New York suddenly last night didn't

you?" she said. "He felt real sorry to leave so soon, but his partner

wired him there was something he must see to himself, and he just took

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his car and went right away as soon as he got back from taking that

girl home. He hoped he'd get back again soon though. Say, who was that

girl? Wasn't she kind of queer to ask Mark to take her home? Seems

somehow girls are getting a little forward these days. I know you'd

never do a thing like that with a perfect stranger, Marilyn."

The girl only stayed a few minutes, and went home with a braver heart.

At least Mark was protecting his mother. He had not changed entirely.

He wouldn't let her suffer! But what was he doing? Oughtn't he to be

told what rumors were going around about him? But how could it be done?

Her father? Perhaps. She shrank from that, Mark had so withdrawn from

them, he might take it as an interference. Billy? Ah, yes, Billy!

But Billy did not appear anywhere, and when she got back she found that

Shafton's car had been finished and was ready to drive, and he wanted

her to take a little spin with him to try it, he said. He warily

invited her mother to go along, for he saw by her face that she was

going to decline, and the mother watching her daughter's white face

said: "Yes, Marilyn we will go. It will do you good. You have been

housed up here ever since you came home." And there was nothing for the

girl to do but succumb or seem exceedingly rude. She was not by nature

rude, so she went.

As they drove by the Saxon cottage Billy was just coming out, and he

stared glumly at the three and hardly acknowledged Marilyn's greeting.

He stared after them scowling.

"Hell!" said Billy aloud, regardless of Aunt Saxon at the front window,

"Yes Hell!" and he realized the meaning of his epithet far

better than the young man he was staring after had the first night he

had used it in Sabbath Valley.




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