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Cary heaved a sigh of relief and satisfaction. "Of course. How thoughtful you can be, my dear! The gentlemen may be back any moment." She sailed heavily across the room, on her way passing the glass doors which opened on to the verandah. "Why!" she exclaimed, stopping short, "if that isn't Captain Stafford mounting his horse! Look, Beaty! And he hasn't even come to say good-by."
I 'member Aunt Beaty was beat until she could hardly get along but I can' 'member what for but do you know she had to work along till she got better. My ma had to work pretty hard but my oldest sister, Judy, was too young to work much.
It was broken by Mrs. Cary, who flung herself face downward on the table, and burst into wild, uncontrollable sobs. "Oh, Beaty!" she moaned. "Our reputations our good name! How could you have told such wicked stories about yourself and poor Mr. Travers! How could you!" Colonel Carmichael shook his head. He was overwhelmed by a cross-current of conflicting emotions to which he could give no name.
"Are you what are you going to do?" A childish smile twisted the heavy face. "I'd like to stay with you, Beaty. We have always stuck together, haven't we?" She lay back with her head against Beatrice's shoulder. "You always were so clever, Beaty. I'm sure it will be all right. You'll see your poor mother through."
And then well, the game will be in our hands, Miss Cary." Mrs. Cary, who had caught the last remark, looked quickly and suspiciously from one to the other. "What's that you are talking about?" she demanded. "What game is in your hands, Beaty?" Travers smiled frankly. "Miss Cary and I are working out a bridge problem," he explained. "We have just discovered a solution to a difficulty. That's all."
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