out her arms to the child.
"Tuzzin Bee!" crowed the baby, running to her, "me loves oo!"
"I've got this done now," said Johnny. "Eight times three are twenty-four."
"That's a mistake," put in Beatrice. "Didn't I tell you it was twenty-one?"
"Cousin Rob," asked Ellen, in deep trouble, "if Cousin Bee has told a lie, will she go to hell?"
"No," sobbed the baby; "me doesn't want Tuzzin Bee to go to hell!"
Robert's face was pale, and there was a dangerous look in the set lines of his mouth. He went to Beatrice, took her by the shoulders, and gently, but firmly, put her out of the room, then locked the door.
"Well, I never!" she said to herself.
Beatrice was not given to self-analysis, but she could not keep from wondering why she felt so queer. She knew she had no right to be angry, and yet she was furious. She was certain that she would have done the same thing if she had been in his place, and much earlier at that; but the fact did not lessen the enormity of his crime.
"He dared to touch me!" she whispered, with her face hidden.
The long afternoon faded into dusk, and then Mackenzie came home. "Where's mother?" he asked.
"She went to see Mrs. Burns. She said she was sick."
"Have you been lonesome, Bee?"
The girl bit her lips. "Not very," she answered grimly.
School was dismissed and the children trooped into the living-room. Robert spoke pleasantly to his uncle, but took no notice of Beatrice.
"Uncle John," she said at length, "what do you think of a person who takes a lady by the shoulders and puts her out of a room?"
"If you had been a lady," retorted Robert, "I wouldn't have put you out."
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