"Fledra, they call her," interrupted Brimbecomb, with a keen glance at his companion.
"Yes, so I've heard. Ann said that this Fledra was not going out at all."
"Do you know why?"
"Why, I supposed that it was because their father had asked for them and they feared some foul play."
"Foul play!" cried Brimbecomb. "Why, Mrs. Vandecar, don't you think that a father ought to have his own children?" Everett's eyes pierced her gaze until it dropped.
"Not if he is bad," murmured she, "and I heard he was brutal to them."
"It is not so; of that I am sure. That is the matter I have come about. I have accepted the father's case."
"Oh, Everett, was this necessary for you to do, as long as you know Ann's heart is set upon keeping them?"
Everett twisted nervously.
"She has no right to have her heart set upon them. Now, here is what I want you to do. Ann is wearing away her health with these scrubs of humanity, for which she won't even receive gratitude, and Horace looks like a June shad. The boy has been sick constantly since he's been there. If there were no hospitals in the town, it might be different. I must make a move to separate the girl I love from the burden she can't bear."