A carriage drew up at the front-door.

“Give George my love — once only. Tell him 'muddle.'“ Then she arranged her veil, while the tears poured over her cheeks inside.

“Lucy — ”

“No — they are in the hall — oh, please not, Mr. Emerson — they trust me — ”

“But why should they, when you have deceived them?”

Mr. Beebe opened the door, saying: “Here's my mother.”

“You're not worthy of their trust.”

“What's that?” said Mr. Beebe sharply.

“I was saying, why should you trust her when she deceived you?”