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her face in the expression she wanted to use on Carl Harrod and opened the door.
    The young woman who stood on the threshold was perhaps twenty-one or twenty-two. She had a dark complexion with finely chiseled features, a chin that was up in the air far enough to indicate pride, breeding and a certain strength of character.
    Gray eyes made an appraising study of Mildred.
    “Well?” Mildred asked at length, breaking the silence.
    “Oh, Fern,” the young woman said, “I—It is Fern Driscoll, isn’t it?” 
    Mildred nodded.
    “I’m Kitty Baylor,” the young woman said, as though that explained everything. And then she added, by way of explanation, “Forrie’s sister.”
    “Oh,” Mildred said, striving to get her mind adjusted so she could cope with this new complication.
    “I know,” her visitor said, the words rushing out rapidly, “I’m the last person in the world you expected to see, the last person on earth you wanted to see. However, there are certain things we’re going to have to face. Running away from them doesn’t help.
    “I’m up at Stanford, you know, and when I found out about what had happened—Oh, Fern, please let me come in and talk things over. Let’s see if we can’t find some sort of a solution.”
    Mildred stood to one side. “Come in,” she invited.
    “I’d heard about you from Forrie,” Kitty Baylor went on. “I . . . I don’t know how to begin.”
    Mildred closed the door. “Won’t you sit down?” she invited.
    Mildred’s visitor seated herself, said, “We’ve never met but you undoubtedly know about me and I know about you.” Kitty Baylor paused, and Mildred nodded dubiously, sparring for time.
    “Now then,” Kitty went on, “if it’s a fair question, would you tell me just why you suddenly packed up and went away, why you left all of your friends, your contacts and simply disappeared?” 
    Mildred said with dignity, “I don’t think I have to account to you for my actions.”
    “All right,” Kitty said, “I’ll put my cards on the table. This is going to hurt. I don’t like to say some of the things I’m going to have to say, but I guess I’ve got to.”
    Mildred said nothing.
    Kitty took a deep breath. “I’m interested in protecting your good name just as much as the good name of my family. I . . . I guess there’s only one way of saying what I have to say and that’s to be brutally frank. You and Forrie were friendly. You were very friendly. I know that.” Kitty paused and Mildred said nothing.
    Kitty fidgeted for a moment, then pushing up her chin and looking Mildred in the eyes said, “A man whom Dad regards as a blackmailer has been trying to build up the facts for a scandal story. This man is going to publish a story in a slander magazine that makes a specialty of digging out dirt with a sex angle. 
    “That story concerns you. Are you interested?”
    Mildred tried to say something, but couldn’t.
    “All right,” Kitty went on, “I’ll tell you what that story is. It’s that you and Forrie were living together, that you became pregnant, that Forrie went to Dad, that Dad was furious, that he felt Forrie had jeopardized the good name of the family, that you were given a large sum of money to go away and have your baby, that you wanted Forrie to marry you, but that Dad wouldn’t let Forrie even consider it and that Forrie was under Dad’s domination.”
    Kitty paused and Mildred, not knowing what to say, maintained an embarrassed silence.
    Kitty seemed to shrink within her clothes. “Well,” she said, “I guess it’s true. I’d have sworn it wasn’t. I wouldn’t have thought Dad would have done a thing like that. I know he wouldn’t. He admits that he talked with Forrie about you and said in a general way that he hoped Forrie would marry in his social set. I guess it’s no secret that Dad wanted and I guess he still wants Forrie to marry Carla Addis.” Kitty, suddenly weary, said, “I know I’m taking an awful lot on