She looked at bun, her wide brows slightly raised.

"Well?" he questioned impatiently.

"Ask--Mrs. Ingleton first!" she said in a rapid whisper.

Mrs. Ingleton caught it, however. She had the keen senses of a
lynx. "Now, Sylvia, my child, come here!" she commanded playfully.
"I can't have you calling me that, you know. If we are going to
live together, we must have absolutely clear understanding between
us on all points. Don't you agree with me, Gilbert?"

Ingleton growled something unintelligible, and made for the open
window.

"Don't go!" said his wife with a touch of peremptoriness. "I want
you here. Tell this dear child that as I have determined to be a
mother to her she is to address me as such!"

Ingleton barely paused. "You must settle that between yourselves,"
he said gruffly. "And for heaven's sake, don't fight over it!"

He passed heavily forth, and Sylvia, after a very brief hesitation,
sat down in a chair facing her step-mother.

"I am sorry," she said quietly. "But I can't call you Mother.
Anything else you like to suggest, but not that."

Mrs. Ingleton uttered an unpleasant laugh. "I hope you are going