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 "No, but really, Chet?"

"That's it. 'Permanently' they said. Until she's grown up."

Bess gasped. "Who is she? What's she coming for?"

"I don't know."

Bess sat and looked at me. "Chet," she said, almost crossly. "Tell me about it."

"That's all I know," I said.

Bess chewed her lower lip. "Who told you about it?" she asked at last.

"Nobody."

"Oh, Chet!" she exclaimed, suddenly, out of all patience; "why don't you tell me what you know about it, instead of sitting there like a—like a—" she stopped.

"Why don't you say it?" said I, savagely.

"I don't want to," said Bess. "It doesn't do any good to call names;—but I think you might:; tell me, Chester, after saying this much."

"Well, I'll try to," said I. You see, I wasn't meaning to be ugly to Bess; but sometimes you are afraid to go into particulars about things that hurt, because you don't know exactly how your voice is going to act. I tried mine once or twice,