“I feel like a cross between an idiot and a criminal,” I said shortly, “and I don’t know particularly why every one thinks I should be the victim for the sacrifice.  But if you will promise to get her off early to her train, and if you will stand by me and not leave me alone with her, I—­I might try it.”

“Of course, we’ll stand by you!” they said in chorus.  “We won’t let you stick!” And Dal said, “You’re the right sort of girl, Kit.  And after it’s all over, you’ll realize that it’s the biggest kind of lark.  Think how you are saving the old lady’s feeling!  When you are an elderly person yourself, Kit, you will appreciate what you are doing tonight.”

Yes, they said they would stand by me, and that I was a heroine and the only person there clever enough to act the part, and that they wouldn’t let me stick!  I am not bitter now, but that is what they promised.  Oh, I am not defending myself; I suppose I deserved everything that happened.  But they told me that she would be there only between trains, and that she was deaf, and that I had an opportunity to save a fellow-being from ruin.  So in the end I capitulated.

When they opened the door into the living room, Max Reed had arrived and was helping to hide a decanter and glasses, and somebody said a cab was at the door.

And that was the way it began.

Chapter III.  I MIGHT HAVE KNOWN IT

The minute I had consented I regretted it.  After all, what were Jimmy’s troubles to me?  Why should I help him impose on an unsuspecting elderly woman?  And it was only putting off discovery anyhow.  Sooner or later, she would learn of the divorce, and—­Just at that instant my eyes fell on Mr. Harbison—­Tom Harbison, as Anne called him.  He was looking on with an amused, half-puzzled smile, while people were rushing around hiding the roulette wheel and things of which Miss Caruthers might disapprove, and Betty Mercer was on her knees winding up a toy bear that Max had brought her.  What would he think?  It was evident that he thought badly of us already—­that he was contemptuously amused, and then to have to ask him to lend himself to the deception!

With a gasp I hurled myself after Jimmy, only to hear a strange voice in the hall and to know that I was too late.  I was in for it, whatever was coming.  It was Aunt Selina who was coming—­along the hall, followed by Jim, who was mopping his face and trying not to notice the paralyzed silence in the library.

Aunt Selina met me in the doorway.  To my frantic eyes she seemed to tower above us by at least a foot, and beside her Jimmy was a red, perspiring cherub.

“Here she is,” Jimmy said, from behind a temporary eclipse of black cloak and traveling bag.  He was on top of the situation now, and he was mendaciously cheerful.  He had not said, “Here is my wife.”  That would have been a lie.  No, Jimmy merely said, “Here she is.”  If Aunt Selina chose to think me Bella, was it not her responsibility?  And if I chose to accept the situation, was it not mine?  Dallas Brown came forward gravely as Aunt Selina folded over and kissed me, and surreptitiously patted me with one hand while he held out the other to Miss Caruthers.  I loathed him!