"I'm thinking about both girls, the poor one and the rich one. But
the rich girl has a million-dollar mother to look after her.
Good-by, and come Tuesday. I forgot--What is the girl's name, the
little cashier-girl's?"

"Etta--Etta something." Selwyn made effort to think, then took a
note-book out of his pocket and looked at it. "Etta Blake is her
name. I wish you'd forget her. There are some things one can't talk
about, but certainly you know I will do what is right if Harrie--"
His face darkened.

"I know you will, but sometimes a girl needs a woman to do--what is
right. She's such a little thing, and so young. Come Tuesday
evening at eight o'clock."




CHAPTER XVII

Late that evening I had a talk with Mrs. Mundy. I told her where Etta
Blake lived, that is, where she could find the house from which I had
seen her come with the baby in her arms, the house whose address had
been given me by Selwyn, and the next morning she was to go and see
her; but the next morning Mrs. Mundy was ill. Acute indigestion was
what the doctor called it, but to Bettina and me it seemed a much more
dreadful thing, and for the time all thought of other matters was put
aside and held in abeyance.

With Bettina's help I tried to do Mrs. Mundy's work, but my first