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 despite herself. In her sorrow, she paid little heed to her brother's usual long speeches, or to Mabelle's idiotic interruptions. But she was able to despise Mabelle with a contempt which made any previous emotion pale by comparison. Because Mabelle was Naomi's friend, she, too, seemed responsible for what had happened.

After lunch, when Mabelle had gone out to the kitchen for a time, Emma took her brother aside in the grim parlor, and said, "Elmer, I have something to ask of you."

He looked at her sharply, in a way in which he had looked at her for years on occasions when he thought she might be asking for money. It had never yet happened, but the unguarded look of alarm had never wholly died since the moment that Jason Downes left his wife penniless.

"It's not what you think," said Emma coldly. "It's only about Mabelle. I want you to keep her from coming to the house so often."

"But why, Emma?"

"You don't know that she spends all her days there. I never go home without finding her . . . and I think she's bad for Naomi . . . just now."

"How bad for her?"

He was standing with his hands clasped behind him, watching her. For a moment she looked squarely into his eyes, hesitating, wondering whether she dared speak the truth. Then she took the plunge, for she felt suddenly that Elmer would understand. There was a bond between them not of fraternal affection (for there were times when they actually disliked each other), but a tie far stronger. He would understand what she meant to say, because he was, in spite of everything, very