“No one has intimated there was any disgrace about it,” Miss Bentley interrupted.  “At worst it can be called eccentric.  It was also very, very kind.”

“Oh, now, Miss Bentley, thank you, but I can’t let you overrate that.  Any help I have given was merely by the way.  You must remember I was in need of some occupation, and I assure you it has been very much of a lark.”

“Yes?” said Miss Bentley.  “Then no doubt before long you will be writing ‘The Impressions of a Candy Man,’ or ‘Life as Seen from a Candy Wagon.’  It will be new.”

“Thanks for the suggestion, I’ll consider it.  But for the chance that made me a Candy Man I should have missed a great deal—­for one thing, a realisation of the opportunity that awaits the Fairy Godmother Society.”

“But Tim will soon be about again,” said Margaret Elizabeth.

“Then I must look out for another job; but your remark implies some further knowledge of Tim.  I was not aware I had mentioned his name even.”

Miss Bentley bit her lip, then decided to smile frankly.  “I met Tim the other day,” she said.  “My cousin, Dr. Vandegrift, often visits St. Mary’s, and I sometimes go with her.  Tim is a nice boy, and full of praises for the kind gentleman who has done so much for him.”

“And also, let me add, for the lovely young lady who gave him a red rose, and——­”

Margaret Elizabeth laughed.  There was no getting ahead of this Candy Man.  Had he known all along, or had he just guessed?  “I see a light at last,” she said, rising.  “I must go, or they will be wondering what has become of me.” ...

“Yes, I know it was my afternoon in,” said Uncle Bob plaintively, while Margaret Elizabeth made toast at the grate and Dr. Prue set the table.  “I merely ran over to the drug store for a second, but Barlow was there and I got to talking.”

“It is quite unnecessary to explain, but I do wish, father, you would refrain from speaking as if you were required to stay in.  It was your own proposition to let Nancy go.  I could have made other arrangements.”  Dr. Prue was aggrieved.  There was no telling how many telephone calls had been unanswered.

Margaret Elizabeth laughed.  “You are absolutely untrustworthy, Uncle Bob.  Hereafter I shall carry a latch key.”

“By the way, who was that young man who brought you home?” the doctor asked.

“His name is Reynolds.  He is a stranger here.  I have met him once or twice.”  This casual explanation was accompanied by side glances which indicated to Uncle Bob that there was more in it than appeared on the surface.

Margaret Elizabeth had been extremely reserved upon the subject of the Candy Man.  Uncle Bob had not heard a word of it till now, when, beside the Little Red Chimney hearth, supper having been cleared away, and Dr. Prue resting with a book on the office lounge, she told him the whole story.

“You don’t say so!  That beats anything I ever heard.  Well, I said it would come out all right, didn’t I?” Margaret Elizabeth’s narrative was punctured, as Mrs. Partington would have said, with many exclamations such as these.