see dad." She was at his side now, her arm linked into his.

But the boy drew back.

"No, no, Susan, not there. He--he wouldn't like it. Truly, he--he
doesn't want to see me. You know he--he doesn't like to see
disagreeable things."

"'Disagreeable things,' indeed!" exploded Susan, her features working
again. "Well, I guess if he calls it disagreeable to see his son
dressed up an' walkin' around--"

But Keith interrupted her once more, with an even stronger protest,
and Susan was forced to content herself with leading her charge out on
to the broad veranda that ran across the entire front of the house.
There they walked back and forth, back and forth.

She was glad, afterward, that this was all she did, for at the far end
of the veranda Daniel Burton stepped out from a door, and stood for a
moment watching them. But it was for only a moment. And when she
begged mutely for him to come forward and speak, he shook his head
fiercely, covered his eyes with his hand, and plunged back into the
house.

"What was that, Susan? What was that?" demanded the boy.

"Nothin', child, nothin', only a door shuttin' somewhere, or a
window."

At that moment a girl's voice caroled shrilly from the street.