I opened my eyes to laugh at him; he was so bewildered.

"I mean a--a fib; in fact, many of them. I--I was just--it was long ago--and I had to make you believe--"

His soft old eyes looked at me unbelieving. "You don't mean to say you deliberately lied!"

Now, that was what I did mean--just what I did mean--but not in that tone of voice.

But what could I do? I just looked at him and nodded.

Oh, Maggie, I felt so little and so nasty! I haven't felt like that since I left the Cruelty. And I'm not nasty, Maggie, and I'm Fred Obermuller's wife, and--

And that put a backbone in me again. Fred Obermuller's wife just won't let anybody think worse of her than she can help--from sheer love and pride in that big, clever husband of hers.

"Now, look here, Bishop Van Wagenen," I broke out, "if I were the abandoned little wretch your eyes accuse me of being I wouldn't be in your carriage confessing to you this blessed minute when it'd be so much easier not to. Surely--surely, in your experience you must have met girls that go wrong--and then go right for ever and ever, Amen. And I'm very right now. But--but it has been hard for me at times. And at those times--ah, you must know how sincerely I mean it--at those times I used to try to recall the sound of your voice, when you said you'd like to take me home with you and keep me. If I had been your daughter you'd have had a heart full of loving care for me. And yet, if I had been, and had known that benevolent fatherhood, I should need it less--so much less than I did the day I begged a prayer from you. But--it's all right now. You don't know--do you?--I'm Nance Olden."