"Hugh," she said a few moments later, "I am so--so worried about you. I
hate to think that all this trouble is through me. Aunt thinks I have
gone to church, but I haven't. I got out the car, and drove here myself.
Hugh, what can I do?"

"There's one thing you can't do, child, and that is drive a car! There
are heaps of things you can do. One of them is to go back and be happy,
and not worry your little head over anything."

"But I must, it is all because of me; and, Hugh, aunt has asked Tom to
dinner to-day."

"I hope he has a good dinner," said Hugh.

"Hugh!" She looked at him. "It is no good trying to make light of it. I
know you've been worried. I know you and--and Joan must have had a scene
yesterday, or she wouldn't have left the house without even seeing me."

"We had--a few words; I noticed that she did seem a little angry," he
said.

"Poor Joan! She was always so terribly proud; it was her poverty that
made her proud and sensitive, I think."

He nodded. "I think so, too. Poverty inclines her to take an exaggerated
view of everything, Marjorie. She took it badly."

The girl slipped her hand through his arm. "Is--is there anything I can
do? It is all my fault, Hugh. Shall I confess to aunt, and then go and