A brazen minx I had once thought her, but tonight in her plain white frock and sober conventional surroundings she seemed to show something of the quiet poise of a nurse or a nun. She seemed to exemplify the thought that the ideal woman is both wood-nymph and madonna. By contrast to the Nietzschian intriguer I had left that morning at Briar Hills, she was a paragon of all virtues. Nietzsche! The philosopher of the sty! Freud, his runt!

When, the following morning, I found Jack Ballard in his apartment at eleven (as usual fastening his cravat) I told him of the unfortunate end to my ventures, but he only laughed at me.

"My dear Pope," he said, "you are suffering from a severe attack of paternomania. If you don"t mind my saying so, you"re making a prodigious a.s.s of yourself and of Jerry. If I were the boy, I"d pack you out bag and baggage. Imagine it! Put yourself in his place. Would _you_ like any meddling in your little affairs of gallantry?" And he laughed aloud at his joke. I scowled at him, but pa.s.sed the absurd remark in dignified silence.

"If it _were_ an affair of gallantry!" I said at last, "I could forgive him that, and her. But this--it"s mere milk and water and he thinks it"s the nectar of the G.o.ds. The pity of it!"

"A pity, yes. But who is responsible? Not Jerry, surely. He"s what you"ve made him," Jack paused expressively. "Does he--?" he began and paused. I read his meaning.

"No," I said.

"Um! Knowledge will come like a thunderclap to Jerry. Then--look out!"

I agreed with him.

"But Jerry"s amatory ventures are none of your business, Pope," he went on. "Let the boy go the limit. He has got to do it. It won"t hurt him. I told you that Marcia would help him cut his eye-teeth. She"s doing it in approved modern fashion, without instruments or gas.

He"ll recover. Let "em alone. I"ll tell you what to do. Just put your precious dialectics in cold storage awhile--they"ll keep; n.o.body"ll thaw "em out unless you do--and take a trip to "Frisco."

"Frisco or not, I meddle no more."

"Frankenstein!" he laughed again. "The monster is getting away from you."

"If you"re going to be facetious--"

"There are times when nothing else is possible. This is one of "em.

Brace up, old boy. All"s lost but hope and that"s going soon. You go home and take a pill. You"re yellow. Perhaps I"ll come up for the week-end for Marcia"s party, you know,--if you"ll promise to have the beds well-aired. I"m sure they"re reminiscent of Jerry"s pugs. Going?

Oh, very well. Love to Jerry. And remember, old top, that a man is as heaven made him and sometimes a great deal worse."

This was the comforting reflection I took with me to the train that afternoon. But I was now resigned. I had done what I could and failed.

The only thing left, it seemed, was to reconcile myself to the situation, seek a friendship with Marcia and await the _debacle_.

I made, of course, no mention of the object of my visit to New York and Jerry gave me no confidences. He went to town Tuesday and Wednesday, returned tired and sullen. And the next night after a long period alone in the study in which I had managed at last to get my mind on my work, I found Jerry in the dining-room quite drunk with the brandy bottle beside him. He was ugly and disposed to be quarrelsome, but I got him to bed at last, suffering myself no graver damage than a bruised biceps where his great fingers had grasped me. Jack Ballard"s remark about Frankenstein was no joke. That night a monster Jerry was; from the bottom of my heart I pitied him.

I argued with Jerry in the morning, pleaded with him and threatened to leave the Manor, but he was so contrite, so earnest in his promises of reformation that I couldn"t find it in my heart to go. I proposed a trip to Europe, but he refused.

"Not now, Roger," he demurred. "I"ve got to stay here now. Just stick around with me for awhile, won"t you, old chap?"

"Will you stop drinking?" I asked.

"Brandy?"

"Everything."

"H--m. You"re the devil of a martinet."

"Will you?"

It was the supreme test of what remained of my influence over him. His head ached, I"m sure, for he looked a wreck. I watched his face anxiously. He went to the table, took a cigarette from the box and lighted it deliberately. Then turning, faced me with a smile, and offered his hand.

"Yes," he said. "Old Dry-as-dust, I will."

"A promise? You"ve never broken one, Jerry."

"A promise, Roger. I--I think I"m getting a little glimmering of sense. A promise. I"ll keep it."

"Thank G.o.d, for that," I said, in so fervent a tone that the boy smiled at me.

"Good old Roger! You"re a brick," he said. "Friendship, after all, is the greatest thing in the world." He turned his head and walked to the window and looked out, a.s.suming an air of unconcern which I knew hid some deep-seated emotion. I, too, was silent. It was a fine moment for us both.

He turned into the room after awhile with an air of gayety.

"We"re going to have a party, Roger."

"Ah, when?"

"Marcia"s giving a dance tomorrow night, people from all over, and I"ll have a few of "em here in the afternoon--for tea out at the cabin. Sort of a picnic. Some of "em are bringing rods to try the early fishing. Rather jolly, eh? I"ll tell Poole and Christopher--"

I confessed myself much pleased with this arrangement and thanked my stars that Una had refused me. It was the day I had wanted her.

Indeed, since Jerry"s promise, life at the Manor had suddenly taken a different complexion. A new hope was born in me. Jerry would keep that promise. I was sure of it.

I will come as rapidly as possible to the extraordinary happenings of that Sat.u.r.day afternoon, which as much as any other event in this entire history, portrays the mutability of the feminine mind. I had gone out to the cabin to see that everything was in order, and Jerry was to follow later, while a few of the men fished up stream, Marcia and some of her guests driving in motors to the upper gate, cutting across to the cabin through the woods. Christopher had cleared the cabin and he and Poole had brought the eatables and set a table. The two days that had pa.s.sed since Jerry had given me his promise had been cheerful ones for the boy. I had not seen Miss Gore, but for aught I knew Marcia Van Wyck might have been adoring Jerry again. I did not care what her mood was. All would come right, for Jerry had given me a promise and he would not break it. The arrangements within the cabin having been completed, I went outside and wandered a short way down the path toward the stream, sat on a rock and became at once engaged in my favorite woodland game of counting birdcalls. Thrushes and robins, warblers, sparrows, finches, all engaged in the employment that Jerry had described as "hopping around a bit," or chirping, calling, singing until the air was melodious with sound. The birdman"s surprise, a new note differing from the others, a loud clear gurgling song, brought me to my feet and I went on down the path listening. It was different from the note of a wren which it resembled, that of a Lincoln sparrow, I was sure, a rarity at the Manor, only one specimen of which Jerry possessed. But midway in my pursuit of the elusive bird I saw movement in the path in front of me and I caught a glimpse of leather leggins and a skirt. In a moment all thought of my Lincoln sparrow was gone from my head. At first I thought the visitor one of Jerry"s guests, but as she approached, b.u.t.terfly net in hand, I saw that it was Una Habberton. So great was my surprise at seeing her that I stood, mouth open, stupidly staring. But she was laughing at me.

"You"re a nice one," she was saying. "Here I am a trespa.s.ser through the grille and not a soul to greet me."

"You came," I muttered inanely.

"Obviously; since here I am. It"s Sat.u.r.day, isn"t it?"

"Yes. But--" I paused.

"But what?"

"You said you wouldn"t come."

"Oh," she laughed. "I merely changed my mind--my privilege, you know.

I was a trifle stale. I thought it would do me good. But you don"t seem in the least glad to see me."

I was--delighted. Joy was one of the things that made me dumb.

"I was just trying to realize--er--Won"t you sit down? On a rock, I mean. Jerry"s somewhere about. He"ll be along in a minute."

The possible effect on Una of Jerry"s guests, who also might be along in a minute, was just beginning to bewilder me.

"He"s fishing?"

"He was to meet me at the cabin. He"ll be along presently. It will be a wonderful surprise. Suppose we hadn"t been out here at all?"

"I was prepared to go all the way to the house. Nice of me, wasn"t it?

You know I promised Jerry some day I"d come to see his collection."