Kitabı oku: «The Haunted Pajamas», sayfa 11

CHAPTER XXIV
I SPEAK TO HER FATHER

"So glad to see you here, my boy," the judge was saying. And his little round face beamed at me across the library table. I had encountered him in the hall just as I had descended to rejoin the girls in the living-room. Forthwith, he elbowed me into the library.

"Know from Jack how glad you always are to escape girls," he remarked cheerily as he produced cigars. "Don't blame you at all – in fact, do you know it refreshes me to find – "

Don't know what dashed thing it refreshed him to find, for I never caught it. For just then through the doorway there floated, from across the hall, a bar of music – the laugh of the dearest girl in the world!

I strained for another bar.

"Hah!" ejaculated the judge, pausing with questioning uplift of cigar. "The silly cackle of those girls – it disturbs you. Yes, it does – I can see it – you look disturbed." And, dash it, he insisted upon closing the door. "You mustn't let them bother you while you are here," he urged pleasantly; "you must just go ahead and do the thing you want to do."

By Jove, there seemed little opportunity for it!

"Thanks awfully," I murmured feebly.

The judge proceeded genially: "Of course we all understand that you just came up to Wolhurst to please Jack." Then his face clouded. "H'm! Sorry to learn that he came home with another – " his eyes rolled through a circle – "er – is not feeling just fit. It's too bad, for I wanted some one to take you over the neighborhood – interesting landmarks, you know, reminiscent of Major André and Washington Irving."

"Charmed, I'm sure," I chirped up. Jolly lie, though, for I wasn't impressed; didn't know who the other fellow was, but I had seen Irving in London – scores of times. Not a patch on John Drew to my thinking!

The judge was murmuring something apologetic:

"So I can't go with you, myself, you see – but I know you will understand. Just so infernally tied up with preparation of rebuttal in suit the attorney-general is bringing against one of my corporations – most unreasonable thing you ever heard of!" The judge crossed his legs with a fling of impatience and pulled savagely at his cigar. "By George, Lightnut, we are getting to a pass with politics where party organization is going to the dogs – don't you think so, eh?"

"Oh, dash it, yes – rotten, you know!" I worked off indignantly – her father, don't you see! Sat wondering when I would get to see her – by Jove, they would have to let me see her at luncheon! I just caught back in time to get the end of a sentence:

"Utter defiance of personal obligations!" His hands spread eloquently. "Tell me what is the use of electing men to office, when they time-servingly yield before the clamor of the cursed populistic and revolutionary spirit of the times?" He was leaning toward me now, his jolly face swelling with indignation, his fist beating upon his knee. "What has become, Mr. Lightnut," he pounded, "of the time-honored sanctity of the 'gentleman's agreement' – eh? Where now the pact conventa?"

"Where?" I shrugged, and I let it go at that, pretending to be busied with a match; for dash me if I knew! Never had seen it even – in fact, didn't care a jolly hang if I never did, don't you know.

He went on hammering: "Here I've got to go and stultify myself, arguing against my own decision when I was on the bench!" He snorted. "It's perfectly abominable, sir – outrageous!"

And the judge hurled his little body back into the chair and furiously pumped himself into a cloud of smoke. He glared at me expectantly, and I knew I had to come up.

"Beastly bad form, you know!" I tried, sending a great funnel upward and frowning after it. Fact was, I never took any interest in political questions – dashed bore, you know. Wondered if he would spring them much when Frances and I were —

"Um – well, I should say so!" he grunted; and my jerk sent ashes all over me. But I saw that he was just mollified because I agreed with him. Best system, Pugsley says, is always to agree with everybody in politics – "humor 'em gently, just like children," were his exact words; "you know it really don't matter!"

"And now, let's see," resumed the judge, brightening. "I wonder who we can get to take you!" His fingers drummed together thoughtfully. "Um, of course, there is Francis – " my heart took a jolly leap – "but Francis is impossible —quite impossible!"

"By Jove, no!" I ejaculated eagerly, and I came up in my chair like a galvanized what's-its-name. "Just the thing – be delighted, you know."

He smiled grimly. "Natural you should say that, but – " He expectorated with deliberation, glowering at me as he did it. "No, sir!" His head shook with decision. "Wouldn't do – I wouldn't think of trusting you with Francis," he finished shortly.

"O!" Just a gasp, you know; and my jolly cheeks stung as from a dash of fiery what's-its-name sauce. So he knew about the pajamas, too!

I half rose from my chair.

"I – I assure you, sir – " I began stiffly.

His fussy shrug checked me. "No, no, we'll just have to wait till Jack gets up. The only thing I'm anxious about is the scenery and the view points; and I just know if Francis went with you, you would never see any of it."

By Jove, I thought that quite likely enough, but of course it was devilish personal of him to say so. And dash seeing the scenery and view points, anyway – who wanted to see them, if they could see her? I was just going to suggest this, when he went on:

"The fact is – " He hesitated, then flicked his ashes with a sigh. "Oh, well, since I've said as much as I have, I should go further, I suppose. It's only fair not to leave you in the dark, especially as my daughter was enthusiastically telling me just now" – puff – "that she already looks on you as one of the family."

"By Jove, did she though?" I hitched to the front of the chair. "How dev – I mean how – "

He nodded. "And so I feel justified in talking to you frankly – not that I want to prejudice you against Francis, you understand, but just because" – his head wagged soberly – "Francis won't do!" And he looked at me steadily.

Something like a sharp pain struck through me. Again – and this time from her own father! I just sat there kind of frozen, you know, except that I could feel the smile slowly loosening in my face. He moved to a seat nearer.

"I don't like to seem to be disparaging my own flesh and blood, Mr. Lightnut," he proceeded gravely, "but the truth is Francis is the only one of my children that gives me any anxiety."

"Oh!" I felt myself shrink together, my knees slanting away from him. My dashed monocle hung limp.

He angled closer. "Jack's drinking is bad – that I admit, but perhaps – h'm – he comes by it naturally; still Jack has never forgotten that he is a gentleman – the son of a gentleman – and has never been what you would call fast, but – " His chest lifted under a deep breath – "but Francis —whew!"

"Fast – Frances?" It faltered tremulously from my lips; my cigar dropped with a soft thud.

His eyes widened. "Oh, yes – frightfully!" And he tendered me another cigar, and I had to light it – he made me! "Of course, the mistake was in ever sending Francis away to school – not always a wise thing, Mr. Lightnut, especially when the home life has been too cloistered. I think the reaction was too much for one so green and inexperienced as Francis. And extravagance – my!" He lifted his hands. "I thought Jack was bad enough at Cambridge with a thousand-dollar apartment on the 'Gold Coast,' as you call it – and, by George, you Harvard men have got the right name for it! – but Francis beat that in one term's drain on me for poker losses and – "

"Poker?" I moistened my lips. Then I brightened, for perhaps he meant bridge – and that was good form, for there was my Aunt Julia, who lived by it – fact! But his head shook impatiently when I suggested that he meant this.

"Bridge!" he exploded. "Why, Francis doesn't know bridge from casino! Poker, I tell you, and faro – and all the rest. The plucking was done nightly at a certain – er – club, the establishment of a gentleman by the name of McGinty – 'Spot' McGinty – oh, you know the place, then?"

For I had gasped audibly. "Only – only by reputation," I responded hastily.

"Um, dare say it has got 'reputation,' all right. I guess, too, there are more crooked things than streets within a couple of miles of Harvard Square, eh? Why, do you know, Francis and a couple of classmates were caught in a raid there one night and lugged off to the station in a patrol – I had to bail 'em out by wire. That's how I know about the place." And, discriminatingly, he selected a fresh cigar and lighted it.

"You – you don't mean they were really arrested?" I faltered.

He nodded grimly through a funnel of smoke. "How could they help being? Why, dammit, they were too drunk to get away!" He settled in his seat with a scowl. "I can tell you it was all I could do to stave off expulsion!"

My jolly head spun. By Jove, Radcliffe girls must have moved on some since my day! Then they were coldly intellectual – went in strong for the earnest life, you know – the serious purpose existence – all that sort of thing. All of us looked on them with more or less awe – that is, except Smithers; he tried some intimate flirtations, one morning with a bunch in the Botanic Gardens and got stung. He said they were "prunes."

But Frances– and "Spot" McGinty's! Surely I had not heard aright.

I faced him earnestly. "I – er – Judge Billings, do I understand you – that is, it can't be that you are speaking of – er – Frances?" I stammered incredulously. "I mean your Frances – surely you are not!"

"I just am!" His jaw set with a snap. "Just who I'm talking about and nobody else, young man! I mean, my Francis – Francis Leslie Billings – who else could I mean?" He almost groaned. "Oh, you don't know Francis!"

Dash it, what they all chorused at me! They seemed pretty positive about it, too, and I was jolly miserable; but looking back now, I somehow think of that moment as being the point where I reached the parting of the what-you-call-'ems. Didn't know what to think, but knew I had to make up my mind right then and there – and for always, don't you know. Knew, of course, that it was just pure luck that Frances cared for me – realized jolly well I wasn't particularly clever and all that, you know; but she didn't seem to mind. It was then that it came to me all of a sudden that the only dashed thing in all the world that I could give her, that she didn't seem to have already from somebody, was – well just trust.

And, by Jove, as soon as I got hold of this perfectly corking idea, I knew I had it for life, and – well, nothing else mattered in all the world, you know!

Meantime, her father was studying me a little oddly and smiling.

"I see you don't quite like what I say about Francis," he remarked, puffing complacently.

I looked him straight in the eye. "Frankly, I don't, if you must know," I blurted. Then I screwed my monocle tight and straightened forward. "By Jove, I think you ought to be ashamed of yourself, you know!"

"Wh – what's that? —Lightnut!" He turned a beet color and grasped the arms of his chair.

"Oh, I do." I stood up and he followed. "I think if that poor child had had a little – er – forbearance and kindness – that sort of thing – oh, dash it, I just think you've been infernally harsh always – yes, I do!"

"Well, I'll be – " He swallowed it, neck forward, and stood panting a bit. "Harsh, eh?" he jerked at me. "Um!" He stood there, his feet braced apart, his white brows beetling at the floor. "Harsh!" He cocked his head on one side, thrusting out his heavy under-lip. Then came a sniff and a grunt, and oh, he looked black!

I was feeling devilish pale – you can, you know – and a little trembly from excitement. Wasn't quite sure what I had said, but knew jolly well I must have meant it, whatever it was. Knew, of course, that in another minute it would be his come-back and he would simply slay me. He would look at me coldly through his glasses, bow with dignity, and leave the room.

And then —

I wondered if Jenkins had a time-table!

And just then came a quick breath, and I caught a murmur: "I wonder now if, after all, that is true! By George, they say children and – " The mutter trailed off. "Here, here, my boy – sit down," he exclaimed suddenly; and he made me.

"I want to thank you, Lightnut," he said impressively. "It may be that you are right. Perhaps the better course would be gently to reason with Francis."

"Oh, Judge, I am sure of it," I urged feelingly.

"Well, well, my boy – we'll see." He patted me on the knee. "I'm going to try your way – by George, I'll do it to-night!" His eyes seemed to hold me with a more kindly and personal interest. "Do you know I can't tell you how glad I am that you find so much in Francis to like; indeed, I am delighted." Still studying me attentively, he musingly reached for a fresh light. "In point of fact, Lightnut, I am free to say I hope the intimacy begun between you two will grow closer. It would be a thundering good thing for Francis and a great comfort to me."

And, by Jove, he smiled at me – a devilish pleasant smile!

I sat up straight, uncrossed my legs and tried it over the other way. Awfully helpful dodge, you know, when you are under some mental agitation.

He was looking at me through his lashes as he drew the flame to his cigar, and I knew that now was the time for me to speak. He expected it – had deliberately given me an opening, and a prime one, and now – was waiting! Of course he couldn't know that I was so dashed inexperienced – unpractised, you know – in speaking to a girl's father and that I didn't even know the correct forms and usages. An out-and-out man of the world like Judge Billings just couldn't understand this, don't you know, and to have him suspect the truth – oh, it would have been too mortifying – too humiliating, dash it!

So I just leaned forward and made a go:

"Thanks awfully; and – er – by the way – " Then I stuck, boggled wildly an instant and went on: "That is to say, this intimacy, you know – has it been too short to justify – " I gulped. "Er – would you be willing to trust – " And I lost the dashed idea again, floundered a bit and took another shy: "Oh, I say, you know, have I your permission to speak to Frances – er —you know?"

"You speak to Francis?" – he just leaped toward me – "Why, my boy!" And he was wringing my arm with one hand while the other clasped my shoulder. "My de-e-ear boy – why, Lightnut!" By Jove, he almost gushed! "You're not joking now, are you?" He peered anxiously into my face. "No, by George, I believe you really mean it!" And he went to pumping like mad. "How awfully good of you —self-sacrificing is the word! Are you quite sure you don't mind?"

"Mind?" By Jove, I think I looked what I felt at such a dashed silly question.

"Well! well! well! My dear young friend!" And oh, he went on in the most disgusting way – why, dash it, you would have thought I was doing him some favor! I guessed, though, that it was the usual custom, but it seemed rum – for I should have thought that in giving your daughter away, you put the thanks up to the other fellow. But Pugsley says the rule varies – quite often varies! Anyhow, I felt so gratified that I had taken the honorable course and spoken to her father – understand so many do not at all, you know. As it was, it gave me quite a comfortable glow of pride, and I reflected how much better it always is to follow the wise dictates of your what's-its-name!

"By Jove!" I thought, as I nodded and smiled back, "I wonder what he would say if he knew that Frances and I are already engaged!"

CHAPTER XXV
THE FAMILY BLACK SHEEP

Presently I got in a word:

"Then, Judge, I have your permission to speak to Frances?"

"Permission?" He lifted his hands and eyes. "You certainly have, my boy – don't I make it clear? Why, I'm simply delighted – and grateful – oh, so grateful to you!"

And, by Jove, he meant it – there was no mistaking his fervency! But it made me feel like a silly ass, you know. Custom or no custom, it just made me a bit nifty to think her father would speak this way. Might be good form, but it appeared rotten taste – lots of things seem that way, dash it! Suggested this to Pugsley once, but he was so devilish shocked couldn't eat his luncheon – wasn't able to fetch a dashed word for four hours!

"Why, Lightnut," he dropped to a chair, leaning forward, with shining eyes, "you can't possibly know what this means just at this time! Why, if you hadn't offered to speak to Francis, it's not likely that any one else ever would!"

"Judge!" I ejaculated, shocked.

"Who would want to?" And he grimaced horribly.

"Oh, I say now!" I protested warmly.

"My boy, I tell you I know – you don't!" He lifted his hand eloquently, deflecting the corners of his mouth – oh, such a way! "No, siree, I tell you there's not another living man would dare chance it!" He threw himself backward, puffing his cheeks at me and walling his eyes frightfully. "In fact, hereabouts – where Francis is known, there have been two men – only just two – who ever had the temerity to do it."

"Oh!" I commented. Wondered if one of these was the other chap she was engaged to.

He proceeded impressively: "One of these, my dear sir, was our rector – a most charming and venerable old man, now nearly eighty-three and partially paralyzed and deaf; lives a sweet, patient life all alone, you know, with no one in the world to care for him. Well, sir," he stiffened dramatically, leveling one finger at me, "do you think that Francis would even listen to him?"

Did I? Well, dash it, did I?

But I tried to mumble something polite.

"And then – " he puffed as he relighted his cigar, "there's Jack's chauffeur, you know."

"Eh, Jack's —what's that?" I gripped the arms of my chair.

"Yes," he nodded, "Jack's chauffeur. Oh, I was so disappointed at the result of his effort!" The old gentleman slipped back in his chair with a sigh. "Francis just swore at him, you know!"

"By Jove!" I managed to get out – and yet, somehow, I was devilish pleased about it.

"You see?" And he spread out his hands. "Absolutely no sense of appreciation, you observe; and it had seemed such a splendid chance! You see they had been so intimate – oh, are still, for that matter."

I caught my breath. "In – intimate!" I stammered. "You don't mean Frances and this chauffeur?"

"Oh, yes," carelessly, "Scoggins is all right; very superior young man for his position – fond of Francis, you know, and I really think has great influence." He puffed complacently an instant. "Fact is, they are always together when Francis is home" – puff – "motoring, boating, or else off somewhere camping together."

"Wha-at – what's that – not camping?" I looked at him aghast. "Oh, come now, Judge – really you don't mean that, do you – not camping together?"

I spoke excitedly, but he just stared at me with an expression of blank surprise.

"Eh? Why, certainly, my dear boy – for weeks at a time – and why not?" His shift manifested some impatience. "Pshaw, Lightnut," he growled, flicking his ash, "what's the odds – why be so particular? I don't mind!" He jammed his hands into his trousers pockets till it seemed he would go through them. "I tell you, I'm glad I'm democratic!"

"Oh!" I uttered, seeing a light.

So that was it! Well, in any case, I knew now that I was a republican, by Jove! Never did know before what I was and it was a devilish relief to find out. Half made up my mind, then and there, I would vote next election – never had, you know; few of our set ever did. Pugsley, for one, held it to be doubtful form.

"Bright, self-made young man," I caught as I came back. By Jove, he was still talking about that beastly chauffeur! "Such fine morals, you know."

"Oh, dash it, yes!" And I think this must have been when I broke the corner out of a filling.

"That was why I was so sorry he failed with Francis," he continued regretfully, "but you may succeed better – oh, I don't know but what it will do just as well!"

"Thanks – er – awfully!" I murmured weakly.

"Oh, I think so —oh, yes!" He bobbed his head as though he were quite resigned to it – then went on thoughtfully:

"And anyhow, if Francis finds you are in deadly earnest, why it – " His voice dropped off musingly: "Well, I believe that would make it easier – oh, lots easier for Scoggins."

I blinked a little with my free eye.

Wasn't sure, you know, but somehow it seemed to me a rum thing to say – almost offensive, dash it! But then, for that matter, everything was rum of late – so that counted for nothing. Fact was, it just seemed to me like there was something in the air – everybody seemed so queer – well, jolly muddled, I should call it! Idea had been gradually coming to me that I was the only one who appeared to have any clear understanding of things; and somehow the realization just made me devilish nervous – the responsibility, don't you know!

And just then the judge looked suddenly at his watch, muttered something, and hitched up to the table strewn with papers. He bent over these with a frown, coughed oddly, glanced at me – and bent again with a mutter. Of course, I saw he was annoyed over sudden consciousness of the break he had made, and was striving to cover his embarrassment.

And, by Jove, it seemed to me he ought to feel embarrassed, for the very rummest thing yet was this crazy infatuation for this infernal chauffeur. It was pitiful – oh, disgusting, if you ask me– and the more so because it was something she did not share. I knew she didn't, you know! No, it was plain enough, dash it, that between her father and this mucker of a chauffeur, my poor darling was being crowded to the what's-its-name. This was what she had meant – had hinted at – and, by Jove, I was ready to wager anything on it; eager to put up all I was worth, you know!

Didn't know, dash it, how much I was worth Went down in Wall Street one day and asked old Morley, my man of affairs, but forgot what he said. Never could remember afterward whether it was one million or ten and always hated to ask again.

Truth was he had stared at me so and seemed so oddly surprised, I just worked off some jolly apologetic rubbish and got out. Pugsley thought I must have violated some rotten, silly law of commercial ethics – that sort of thing, you know; declared that his attorney had had the dashed impertinence once to ask him about some investments, so he got another man and gave him a power of what's-its-name. Never was bothered now, he said, by checks or reports or any boring distractions of that sort; this man just kept him supplied with money, and once in a while he scrawled his name on something – all he had to do. Devilish simple, you see, but then Pugsley is so ingenious, so – oh, clever, you know.

"H'm!" coughed the judge, "Er – h'm!" And I stopped snapping the cover of my cigarette case, thinking he was about to say something, but he did not look up. By Jove, how I wished that he were really busy, so I might slip out without danger of offending him! But I was afraid to chance it – did so want to rub him right, don't you know, on account of Frances. Knew he was still feeling a bit plucked over his slip of the tongue – showed plainly he was bothered, you know; you could tell by his puckered brows and the way he kept clearing his throat. So meantime, knowing that the best thing was to appear unconscious – just give him time, you know – I fell carelessly to jingling some coins in my pocket and tapping my foot upon the hardwood, as I hummed a devilish neat little air from La Juive that I almost knew by heart:

"Qu'il, l'apprenne de vous?

Hélas, je vous implore, bénissez mon époux— "

By Jove, I had just got that far, when he shook his head with a kind of snort, threw down his pen, and got to his feet, facing me with a sickly smile.

"I am going to ask you to excuse me, my dear Lightnut" – came right out frankly like that, you know! "But the fact is – " he opened and shut his watch – nervously, you know – "I have just realized how – "

But I stopped him – couldn't let him go on, of course: "Oh, I say, you know! Not another word, my dear Judge – I don't care a jolly hang, dash it!" And to show him, I smiled, got out a cigarette, and perched kind of sidewise on the edge of the table. "I'm not a bit sensitive, don't you know!"

He stared. "Indeed, no – I see you are not!" he said warmly.

I drew a light a bit airily. "Of course," I puffed, "what you are thinking of is your servant, but I" – I shot him a light wink – "I've got to think a little about my own affair, don't you – "

"Lightnut!" He caught me by the arms, his face reddened almost black. "My dear boy, ten thousand pardons! I assure you – "

"That's just all right, Judge," I reassured him soothingly. "All I am holding out for is just to be sure we understand each other about Frances – that I may be sure I have your authority – "

"So that's it!" He relaxed with a deep breath. Then quietly: "My dear boy, you make me ashamed of myself – I was rude!" And he shook my hand. "Yes, indeed – you just go right ahead; almost anything is preferable to the vicious life Francis is leading —anything!" He sighed and his voice dropped confidentially: "I'm afraid even you would be discouraged if I told you of one or two disgraceful episodes at Cambridge – I know Scoggins would be!"

Scoggins again – always Scoggins! Dash Scoggins! Of course he would be discouraged, but I should not. Devilish simple reason, you know – wouldn't believe it, by Jove!

"Yes, I learned all about it from my daughter when she came home," he proceeded gloomily; "she feels that in a measure it has marred Miss Kirkland's visit with her."

Miss Kirkland! I recalled now that that was the name of the girl from China. By Jove, I preferred to think of her as the frump!

"For Miss Kirkland heard the gossip at Cambridge – seems she has friends there among the residents; and they were kind enough to tell her of these things of the year before as soon as they noticed how devoted Francis was to her. At least this is what my daughter suspects – Miss Kirkland is not the kind to talk, you know."

Oh, wasn't she! By Jove, I wondered what he would think if he had heard our conversation in the hall! But it wasn't for me to tell him he was warming a what's-its-name to his bosom, so I just mumbled a reply.

"Nevertheless," he shrugged, "it is easy to see that she can't stand the sight of Francis." He shook his head dismally. "Charming girl, Mr. Lightnut – a rare and perfect type of the English beauty at her best."

Oh, was she! Not if I knew anything about it, and I had seen three seasons in London. By Jove, I was so terribly shocked I could just feel it in my face!

He seemed surprised. "Don't you think so?" he insisted.

"Well, I rather don't, you know!" It just blurted out of itself. "Oh, I say – now, you're not really in earnest?" And I screwed my glass so hard in my embarrassment, I hurt my eye – "You know she's a freak! Why, dash it – " I pulled up, for after all, she was a fellow guest.

He stared, jammed his hands deep in his pockets and bent toward me. "Now, look here, my boy, do you mean to say you don't think Miss Kirkland a beautiful and winning girl?" – I guess he did see I meant it, for he slowly emitted an expressive whistle – "Well, you are hopeless then – utterly hopeless!" and dash it, he just groaned!

"But now, my dear young friend," he went on, and with a glance at the littered table, "I want you to go out and get some fresh air before the bloom of the morning is past – if you go out this way, you will avoid encountering those girls" – his hand gently but firmly urged me. "It has been just abominably selfish of me to have kept you stuffed in here; I know I have bored you to death with all this about the family black sheep – I feel that now I must let you escape."

"Oh, no – not at all!" I protested hastily and pulling back. Never would do to let him feel that way, you know! "Really, 'pon honor now, thing I want to do is just stay here and talk to you about Frances."

"Oh, damn Fran – h'm – I mean Francis will keep!" He caught himself hastily before the stare of my glass, fumbling with the papers to cover his confusion. Then he clapped me on the shoulder, pressing me again toward the door. "You just go ahead and do whatever you can with Francis, yourself – you are my only hope! Or wait, and I'll prepare the way for you to-night – that's it; that's best!" – and he went to nodding. Then he halted my progress and eyed me intently. "There's another thing: " – his voice dropped – "I think it's just as well Jack shouldn't know of your intentions about Francis; he would never approve – oh, never!"

He pursed his lips to just a thin curve as he shook his head positively. His eyes bored at me over his glasses. I moistened my lips.

"I know he feels you have already concerned yourself enough about Francis," he said deliberately. "The other night at your rooms – er, you know! Jack is so particular in those little things. Ah, there's a model for you!"

He looked upward and wagged his head as he laid his hand upon the door-knob. By Jove, how I wished he would open it, for the room was getting devilish warm!

"And as for things I deplore in Francis – oh, no, never any of that with Jack!" – he stiffened proudly – "he may, as I have said, imbibe a little too much, now and then; but when it comes to scandal– well, I have yet to hear the slightest breath – "

A sharp knock cut in abruptly.

"Come in!" And he swung the door open.