"Amy!" he whispered, as she turned away from the little group. He was
at her side in an instant. She faced him, and there was no trace of
the departed smile in her eyes.

"How dare you speak to me?" she said in low, intense tones. Her eyes
were cold, unfriendly.

"I've been searching for you--" he began, eagerly, but her disdainful
laugh cut him short.

"Go away, please. I don't want to see you. There is nothing more to be
said between us. It's all over, Dick. Don't speak to me again. I--I
don't want the Bingles to know that I--"

"I must see you, Amy," he persisted. "It isn't all over. Now that I've
found you, I'll see that I don't lose track of you again. We can't
talk here. Where can I see you alone--"

"Sh!" she cautioned, and he respected the appeal in her dark,
distressed eyes. Mr. Bingle had entered the room, and was greeted by a
shout of delight from the children. The governess moved swiftly away
from the young man's side, mingling with the nurses by the fireplace.

Mr. Bingle, hurrying toward the semi-circle of youngsters was
surprised by a genial slap on the back from the visibly excited
Flanders.

"Wonderful!" exclaimed the young man, his face radiant. "Wonderful!"

"Aren't they?" cried Mr. Bingle, pleased.