“How will she bear it when it comes to her knowledge, as it necessarily must?  It will kill her, I know!” she exclaimed, after Maggie had exhausted all her powers of reasoning in vain; then, as she remembered the woman’s avowed intention of visiting her daughter-in-law on the morrow, she felt that she must turn back; she must see Theo and break it to her gently, or the first sight of that odious creature, claiming her for a daughter, might be of incalculable injury.

“Stop, Mike,” she was about to say; but ere the words passed her lips she reflected that to take Maggie back to Worcester was to throw her again in Henry Warner’s way, and this she could not do.  There was but one alternative.  She could stop at the Charlton depot, not far distant, and wait for the downward train, while Mike drove Maggie home; and this she resolved to do.  Mike was accordingly bidden to take her at once to the depot, which he did, while she explained to Maggie her reason for returning.

“Theo is much better alone, and George will not thank you for interfering,” said Maggie, not at all pleased with her grandmother’s proceedings.

But the old lady was determined.  It was her duty, she said, to stand by Theo in trouble; and if a visit from that horrid creature wasn’t trouble, she could not well define it.

“When will you come home?” asked Maggie.

“Not before to-morrow night.  Now I have undertaken the matter, I intend to see it through,” said Madam Conway, referring to the expected visit of Mrs. Douglas, senior.

But Mike did not thus understand it, and thinking her only object in turning back was to “see the doin’s,” as he designated the firemen’s muster, he muttered long and loud about being thus sent home while his mistress went to see the fun.

In the meantime, on a hard settee, at the rather uncomfortable depot, Madam Conway awaited the arrival of the train, which came at last, and in a short time she found herself again in Worcester.  Once in a carriage, and on her way to the “Bay State,” she began to feel a little nervous, half wishing she had followed Maggie’s advice, and left Theo alone.  But it could not now be helped, and while trying to think what she should say to her astonished granddaughter she was set down at the door of the hotel, slightly bewildered and a good deal perplexed, a feeling which was by no means diminished when she learned that Mr. and Mrs. Douglas were both out of town.

“Where have they gone, and when will they return?” she gasped, untying her bonnet strings for easier respiration.

To these queries the clerk, replied that he believed Mr. Douglas had gone to Boston on business, that he might be home that night; at all events, he would probably return in the morning; she could find Mr. Warner, who would tell her all about it.  “Shall I send for him?” he continued, as he saw the scowl upon her face.