CHAPTER IX

HUGH’S NEWS “It isn’t a mustard plaster, is it?” asked Helen, and looked so serious, asking it, that Hugh stared at her for a moment in blank amazement. Then he grinned. “Something better than that,” he replied, masterfully taking her by the arm and leading her into the living room. “Lots, lots better.” “Tell me, Hugh! Hurry!” Helen faced him, her eyes bright. “Don’t you see how excited you’re making me?” “If you are half as excited as I am—” Hugh began to pace the room, hands thrust deep in his pockets. “See here,…