" said Joan thoughtfully.

"That's about the size of it. And Diana isn't taking any."

"I should trust him with anything in the world--a man with that face!"
observed Joan, after a pause.

"There you go!" cried Jerry discontentedly. "There you go, with your
unfailing faith in the visible object. A man's got to _look_ a hero
before you think twice about him! Mark my words, Jo--many a saint's
face has hidden the heart of a devil."

Joan surveyed him consideringly.

"I've never observed that you have a saint's face, Jerry," she remarked
calmly.

"Beast! Joan"--he made a dive for her hand, but she eluded him with
the skill of frequent practice--"how much longer are you going to keep
me on tenterhooks? You know I'm the prodigal son, and that I'm only
waiting for you to say 'yes,' to return to the family bosom--"

"And you propose to use me as a stepping stone! I know. You think
that if you return as an engaged young man--"

"With a good reference from my last situation," interpolated Jerry,
grinning.

"Yes--that too, then your father will forget all your peccadilloes and
say, 'Bless you, my children'--"

"Limelight on the blushing bur-ride! And they lived happily ever
after! Yes, that's it! Jolly good programme, isn't it?"

And somehow Jerry's big boyish arm slipped itself round Joan's
shoulders--and Joan raised no objections.

"But--about Max and Diana?" resumed Miss Stair after a judicious
interval.

"Well, what about them?"

"Can't we--can't we do anything? Talk to them?"

"I just see myself talking to Errington!" murmured Jerry. "I'd about
as soon discuss its private and internal arrangements with a volcano!
My dear kid, it all depends upon Diana and whether she's content to
trust her husband or not. _I'd_ trust Max through thick and thin, and
no questions asked. If he blew up the Houses of Parliament, I should
believe he'd some good reason for doing it. . . . But then, I'm not
his wife!"

"Well, I shall talk to Diana," said Joan seriously. "I'm sure Dad
would, if he were here. And I do think, Jerry, you might screw up
courage to speak to Max. He can't eat you! And--and I simply hate to
see those two at cross purposes! They were so happy at the beginning."

The mention of matrimonial happiness started a new train of thought,
and the conversation became of a more personal nature--the kind of
conversation wherein every second or third sentence starts with "when
we are married," a