"And we've only just got back to New York this minute."

"Who?" inquired Mrs. Holt.

"Mr. Brent and I," said Honora, with downcast eyes.

"Good gracious!" exclaimed the elder lady.

"I couldn't think of anything else to do but come straight here to you,"
said Honora, gazing at her friend. "And oh, I'm so glad to find you.
There's not another train to Quicksands till after nine."

"You did quite right, my dear, under the circumstances. I don't say you
haven't been foolish, but it's Howard's fault quite as much as yours. He
has no business to let you do such things."

"And what makes it worse," said Honora, "is that the wires are down to
Quicksands, and I can't telephone Howard, and we have people to dinner,
and they don't know I went to Westchester, and there's no use
telegraphing: it wouldn't be delivered till midnight or morning."

"There, there, my dear, don't worry. I know how anxious you feel on your
husband's account--"

"Oh--Mrs. Holt, I was going to ask you a great, great favour. Wouldn't
you go down to Quicksands with me and spend the night--and pay us a
little visit? You know we would so love to have you!"

"Of course I'll go down with you, my dear," said Mrs. Holt. "I'm
surprised that you should think for an instant that I wouldn't. It's my