mself and now proposed to carry the war into the enemy's
country.

"I'm delighted," I said briefly.

"So am I," he returned thoughtfully. He scraped his pipe, filled it
slowly and when it was lighted again, settled down comfortably.

"I think Una has wakened me, Roger. The force of her example is
tremendous, her life, her way of thinking of things, her cheerfulness,
hopefulness about everybody. I can't make out why Marcia should attack
her so unjustly. It wasn't fair."

"It was _cattish_."

"I don't like your saying that," he put in quickly.

"I'm sorry. Can you imagine Una doing a similar thing?"

"No," he admitted, "but Una has been brought up differently."

Another silence. In spite of the recrudescence of Una we were on
dangerous ground. But hope had given me temerity. In another moment he
was back to the earlier questions.

"I see no reason why you shouldn't answer me, Roger. I've got to know
what all this trouble means. If Una has been imprudent I want to know
why, still more so, if she is to suffer as a consequence of it. If
Marcia's insinuations are cruel I've got to understand what they
mean."

"You may take my word for their cruelty," I said dryly and stopped
with compressed lips. He clasped his hands over his knees and looked
down into the pool before us.

"Do you think you're quite fair with me, Roger? I give you my
confidences and you refuse--"

"Half-confidences, Jerry. My usefulness to you is ended. If you would
speak, I could perhaps help you, solve some of your problems, answer
your questions. But--"

I paused, throwing out my hands in a helpless gesture.

"What more do you want?" he asked.

I took the bull by the horns. I had wanted to for weeks.

"Freely, unreservedly, the nature of your relations with Marcia Van
Wyck--"

He rose suddenly, his face flushing darkly and took up his rod and
creel.

"If you don't mind my saying so," he muttered, "that is none of your
affair."

I rose, though his reproach stung me bitterly.

"Confidences and advice are inseparable," I said coldly.

"You hate Marcia," he mumbled.

"I do."

"Why?"

"Because she's unsound, unsafe, im--"

"Be careful!" he cried.

I shrugged but was silent, I think, from the fear of Jerry's fists
which were clenching his rod and creel ominously.

"She's the woman I love," he declared with pathetic drama.

I braved the fists and laughed.

"Tush!" I said.

He was furious. For a moment I thought he was go