"Did she suspect!" he suddenly cried, starting up.

But George Waldeaux never knew how much Lucy suspected
that night.


Meanwhile Mrs. Waldeaux's mare had jogged on leisurely,
dragging her mistress and Miss Vance home through the
shady country lanes.

"Phebe is old," apologized Frances. "She really is a
retired car horse."

"You used to take pride in your horses, Frances?"

"Yes." Mrs. Waldeaux added after a pause. "My income is
small. Of course George soon will be coining money, but
just now---- The peach crop failed this year too. And
I save every dollar for Jack's education."

"But what of the jokes for the New York paper? They were
profitable."

"Oh, I gave them up long ago." She glanced around
cautiously. "Never speak of that, Clara. I would not
have George know for the world; I never would hold up my
head if he knew that I was `Quigg.'"

Miss Vance gave a contemptuous sniff, but Mrs. Waldeaux