minutes of her own time until this particular period of
intemperance was over. Miss Vanderwall, settling herself in the
beautiful Breckenridge car five minutes later, faced the situation
boldly.

"Where's Clarence, Rachael?"

"I haven't the remotest idea, my dear woman," said Mrs.
Breckenridge frankly, yet with a warning glance at the back of her
stepdaughter's head. Billy was at the wheel. "He didn't dine at
home last night--"

"But we knew where he was," Billy said quickly, half turning.

"We knew where he was," agreed the older woman. "Watch where
you're going, Bill! He told Alfred that he was dining in town,
with a friend, talking business."

"I thought it was the night of Berry Stokes' dinner," suggested
Miss Vanderwall.

"He wasn't there--I asked him not to go," said Billy.

"Oh--" Miss Vanderwall began and then abruptly stopped. "Oh!" said
she mildly, in polite acquiescence.

They were sweeping through the April roadsides so swiftly that it
was only a moment later when Rachael, reaching for the door,
remarked cheerfully, "Here we are!"