“And you are going to let me know you better, aren’t you, dear?” persisted Mrs. Stewart.  “I am coming to see you.  Do ask father to come and talk with me.  There are a thousand questions I must ask him, and innumerable incidents of old times to discuss.”

“Captain Stewart is just across the room.  I will tell him you are anxious to see him, Mrs. Stewart, and then I must take you to Mrs. Harold, Peggy, or the other fellows will never find you in this jam,” and away fled Durand, quick to find a loophole of escape.  Whether Neil Stewart appreciated his zeal in serving the family cause is open to speculations, but it served the turn for the moment.  Neil Stewart was obliged to cross the room and talk to his sister-in-law, said sister-in-law taking the initiative to rise at his approach, place her hand upon his arm, and say: 

“Dear Neil, what a delight after all these years.  But pray take me outside.  It is insufferably oppressive in here and I have so much I wish to say to you.”

Just what “dear Neil’s” innermost thoughts were need not be conjectured.  He escorted the lady from the big ballroom, and Durand whisked Peggy away to Mrs. Harold, though he said nothing to the girl—­he was raging too fiercely inwardly, and felt sure if he said anything he would say too much.  Nor was Peggy her usual self.  She seemed obsessed by a forewarning of evil days ahead.  Durand handed her over to the partner who was waiting for her, and saw her glide away with him, then slipping into a vacant chair behind Mrs. Harold, who for the moment happened to be alone, he said: 

“Little Mother, have you ever been so rip-snorting mad that you have wanted to smash somebody and cut loose for fair, and felt as if you’d burst if you couldn’t?”

The words were spoken in a half-laughing tone, but Mrs. Harold turned to look straight into the dark eyes so near her own.

“What has happened, son?” she asked in the quiet voice which always soothed his perturbed spirit.  He repeated the conversation just heard, punctuating it with a few terse comments which revealed volumes to Mrs. Harold.  Her face was troubled as she said: 

“I don’t like it.  I don’t like it even a little bit.  I’m afraid trouble is ahead for that little girl.  Oh, if her father could only be with her all the time.  Outsiders can do so little because their authority is so limited and those who have the authority are either too guileless or debarred by their stations.  Dr. Llewellyn, Harrison and Mammy are the only ones who have the least right to say one word, and—­”

Mrs. Harold ceased and shrugged her shoulders in a manner which might have been copied from Durand himself.

“Yes, I know who you mean.  And Peggy is one out of a thousand.  She and Polly too.  Great Scott, there isn’t an ounce of nonsense in their heads, and if that old fool—­I beg your pardon,” cried Durand, fussed at his break, but Mrs. Harold nodded and said: