I'll run in to-morrow if I'm up to it." Lane went home, his mind in a tumult.

His mother had just discovered that he had not slept in his bed, and was greatly relieved to see him.
Breakfast was waiting, and after partaking of it Lane felt somewhat better.

His mother appeared more than usually sombre.

Worry was killing her.
"Lorna did not sleep at home last night," she said, presently, as if reluctantly forced to impart this information.
"Where was she ?" he queried, blankly.
"She said she would stay with a friend." "What friend ?" "Some girl.

Oh, it's all right I suppose.