Mrs. Milo's eyes narrowed. Sue's sudden interest in Farvel's daughter was irritating and disturbing. "Wait, Brother Balcome," she begged. "Sue, I don't see why the little girl's own mother shouldn't go for her."
"Of course, I can."
Balcome waited no longer. With a meaning glance at Sue, and a scowl for Mrs. Milo, he hurried out.
"Oh, let Dora go, Mrs. Farvel," urged Sue. "And meanwhile, you can be getting settled somewhere."
Clare looked pleased. "Yes. All right."
"Then she will leave here?" inquired Mrs. Milo.
"Oh, she must," declared Sue, "if she's going to have her baby come to her." She indicated the suitcase. "Is there more?"
"A trunk. And it won't take me ten minutes." As she turned to go, Clare's look rested on the bird-cage, and she put out a hand toward it involuntarily—then checked her evident wish to take it with her, and disappeared into her own room.
"Where had she better go?" asked Farvel, appealing to Sue. "You'll know best, I'm sure——"
Mrs. Milo fluttered to join them. "Of course," she began, her voice full of sweet concern, "there are organized Homes for young women who've made mistakes——"