Kings'
lawn and the Wentworths' next door. Just on the other side of that hedge
the chair had paused, where Sally Wentworth, his friend of long
standing, was serving tea to a little group of young people, all
intimates and all delighted to have the invalid once more in their
midst. Under the group of great copper beeches which made of that corner
of the Wentworth lawn a summer drawing room, King had sat in his chair
drinking tea and listening to gay chatter--and wondering why he had not
been able to get Anne Linton on the telephone so far that day. And at
that very time, so he now bitterly reflected, she and Mrs. Burns had
made their call upon him, only to be told by Mrs. King that he was
"out."

His mother was unquestionably a lady, and she had told the truth; he
could not conceive of her doing otherwise. He knew that she undoubtedly,
quite as Anne had said, had made the call a pleasant one. But she had
known that he was within a stone's throw of the house, and that he would
be bitterly disappointed not to be summoned. She had not mentioned to
him the fact of the call at all until next day--when Anne Linton had
been gone a full two hours upon her train. Then, when he had called up
Mrs. Burns, in a fever of haste to learn what had happened and what
there might yet be a chance of happening, he had discovered that Ellen
herself had tried three times to get him, upon the telephone, and had at
last realized--though this she did not say--that it was not intended
that she should.

King understood his mother perfectly. She would scorn directly to
deceive him, yet to intrigue quietly but effectively against him in such
a case as this she would consider only her duty. She had seen clearly
his interest in the stranger, unintroduced and unvouched for, taken in
by kind people in an emergency, and though showing unquestionable marks
of breeding, none the less a stranger. She had feared for him, in his
present vulnerable condition; and she had done her part in preventing
that final parting which might have contained elements of danger. That
was all there was to it.

For the present King was helpless, and there could be no possible use in
reproaching his mother for her action--or lack of action. Once let him
get up on his feet, his own master once more--then it would be of use to
talk. And talk he would some day. Also he would act. Meanwhile--

Red Pepper Burns came out of the house and scrutinized his friend and
patient closely