"I did not mean for you to tell me now," she returned. "I only wanted
you to know that, even though I am an old maid, I can understand."

She left him then, and went to attend to her simple household duties.

It was not until quite late in the evening that Auntie Sue took up the
newspaper which Sheriff Knox had given her. Judy had retired to her
room, and Brian Burns--as they had agreed he should be called--was fast
asleep.

To-morrow, Brian was going to sit up. His clothing had been washed and
ironed and pressed, and Auntie Sue was making some little repairs in the
way of darning and buttons. She had finished, and was putting her needle
and scissors in the sewing-basket on the table beside her, when she
noticed the paper, which she had forgotten.

The article headed "BANK CLERK DISAPPEARS" was not long. It told, in a
matter-of-fact, newspaper way, how Brian Kent had, at different times,
covering a period of several months, taken various sums from the Empire
Consolidated Savings Bank, and gave, so far as was then known, the
accumulated amount which he had taken. The dishonest clerk had employed
several methods in his operations; but the particular incident--read
Auntie Sue--which had led to the exposure of Kent's stealings was the
theft of a small sum of money in bank-notes, which had been sent to the
bank in a letter by one of the bank's smaller depositors.

The newspaper fell from Auntie Sue's hand. Mechanically, she fingered
the garment lying in her lap.