"You've been more than a friend to her, you've been a sister,
mother, and you don't want any trouble to come to her, do you?"

"I don't," cried the woman. "Oh!" she exclaimed miserably, "I
told them there'd be trouble!"

Winthrop laughed reassuringly.

"Well, there won't be any trouble," he declared, "if I can help
it. And if you want to help her, help me. Persuade her to let
me talk to her. Don't mind what the Professor says."

"I will," declared Mrs. Vance with determination, "I will."
She started eagerly toward the hall, and then paused and
returned. Her hands were clasped; her round, baby eyes, wet
with tears, were fixed upon Winthrop appealingly.

"Oh, please," she pleaded, "you're not going to hurt him, are
you? Paul, my husband," she explained, "he's been such a good
husband to me."

Winthrop laughed uneasily.

"Why, that'll be all right," he protested.

"He doesn't mean any harm, insisted Mrs. "Vance, "he's on the
level; true, he is!"

"Why, of course, of course," Winthrop assented.