den. "We knew from the first it
couldn't succeed."

"But we wanted to prove that it couldn't succeed," Macloud observed.
"If you hadn't searched, you always would have thought that, maybe, you
could have been successful. Now, you've had your try--and you've
failed. It will be easier to reconcile yourself to failure, than not to
have tried."

"In other words, it's better to have tried and lost, than never to have
tried at all," Croyden answered. "Well! it's over and there's no profit
in thinking more about it. We have had an enjoyable camp, and the camp
is ended. I'll go home and try to forget Parmenter, and the jewel box
he buried down on Greenberry Point."

"I think I'll go with you," said Macloud.

"To Hampton!" Croyden exclaimed, incredulously.

"To Hampton--if you can put up with me a little longer."

A knowing smile broke over Croyden's face.

"The Symphony in Blue?" he asked.

"Maybe!--and maybe it is just you. At any rate, I'll come if I may."

"My dear Colin! You know you're more than welcome, always!"

Macloud bowed. "I'll go out to Northumberland to-night, arrange a few
matters which are overdue, and come down to Hampton as soon as I can
get away."

* * * * *

The next afternoon, as Macloud was entering the wide doorway of the
Tuscarora Trust Company, he met Elaine Cavendish coming out.

"Stranger! where have you been these many weeks?" she said, giving him
her hand.

"Out of town," he answered. "Did you miss me so much?"

"I did! There isn't a handy dinner man around, with you and Geoffrey
both away. Dine with us this evening, will you?--it will be strictly
_en famille_, for I want to talk business."

"Wants to talk business!" he thought, as, having accepted, he went on
to the coupon department. "It has to do with that beggar Croyden, I
reckon."

* * * * *

And when, the dinner over, they were sitting before the open grate
fire, in the big living room, she broached the subject without
timidity, or false pride.

"You are more familiar with Geoffrey Croyden's affairs than any one
else, Colin," she said, crossing her knees, in the reckless fashion
women have now-a-days, and exposing a ravishing expanse of blue silk
stockings, with an unconscious consciousness that was delightfully
naive. "And I want to ask you something--or rather, several things."

Macloud blew a whiff of cigarette smoke into the fire,