that damned bounder in my kennels.
Why, hang it all, Judith, I can't see what you have the chap around for
at all. He...."

"You know perfectly well why I have him. He's here so that Della Baker
can have a good time--poor girl."

"Poor girl! Rats! Just because her husband doesn't play tag with her all
day, she's 'poor girl.' Instead of behaving like a halfway decent sort,
she's making several different kinds of a fool of herself over Joe
Faxon. 'Poor girl?'--don't make me laugh!"

"Oh, I heard what you said to Mr. Faxon. But it doesn't follow, Roger,
just because you have a nasty mind that everybody is as horrid as you
choose to think. Maybe there are some sides of a man's life that I'm not
supposed to know about. But just escaping a breach of promise suit,--oh,
Roger, shame on you!"

For a moment the young man lost some of his assurance. "You aren't
fair," he protested aggrievedly. "You're bound to put me in the wrong
every time. Admitted that I have made all sorts of a fool of myself,--a
fellow has to learn somehow, hasn't he? But you'll believe the worst of
me any time, and you won't believe anything against your precious
friends. You're biased, that's what you are, biased."

Judith sighed and took a cigarette from the table and lighted it. She
smoked thoughtfully for a moment.

"Roger, I'm sure I don't know what to do with you. It's just one scrape
after another. It won't be long before this one will be out. But I don't
mean to be unfair. If as you say, you have been all kinds of a fool, it
isn't any more your fault than it is mine. I had no right to make it
possible for you to be all kinds of a fool. And as a matter of fact, you
are not a bit ashamed of yourself, Roger. On the contrary, you're
altogether too satisfied with yourself."

Her brother smiled uneasily. "I don't know that I'm really in need of
condolence," he rejoined with an attempt at sarcasm.

"That's just the trouble," she said earnestly. "You've been feeling
altogether too well--with altogether too little reason." She tossed her
cigarette in the fireplace, and then turned and faced him with lips
compressed. "I overheard some people discussing you the other night,
Roger. One called you 'no account,' the other, 'a bad egg,' and both
agreed that the cause was 'too much money.'"

His eyes flashed. "Who were they?" he demanded belligerently.

"That makes no difference."

"Why doesn't it?"

"Because what they said is true."

Roger was sile