remote end of the divan.

"You—I—mustn't!" she said, frantic to keep her lips from twisting, her little lacy fribble of a handkerchief a mere string from winding.

"Mustn't what?"

"Mustn't," was all she could repeat and not weep her words.

"Won't—I—do?"

"It's—mamma."

"What?"

"Her."

"Her what, my little white buttonhole carnation?"

"You see—I—She's all alone."

"You adorable, she's got a brand-new husky husband."