pictures on the walls were rather above the average, even in the
homes of the wealthy. The objects of art, disposed in suitable places,
were all in good taste and expensive.

Quite at a loss to meet these people to advantage, uninformed as he was
of anything vital concerning Dorothy and the game she might be playing,
Garrison was rendered particularly alert by the feeling of constraint
in the air. He had instantly conceived a high appreciation for
Dorothy's art in her difficult position, and he rose to a comprehension
of the role assigned to himself.

He had earlier determined to appear affectionate; he now saw the need
of enacting the part of protector.

In the full illumination of the room, the glory of Dorothy's beauty was
startling. His eyes sought her face with no need of acting, and the
admiration blazing in his gaze was more than genuine; it was thoroughly
spontaneous and involuntary.

The moment was awkward and fraught with suspense for Garrison, as he
found himself subjected to the flagrantly unfriendly appraisement of
his newly acquired relations.

Aunt Jill had been wilted for a moment only. She looked their visitor
over with undisguised contempt.

"Well, I dare say you _look_ respectable and healthy," she said, as if
conceding a point with no little reluctance, "but appearances are very
deceiving."

"Thank you," said Garrison. He sat down near Dorothy, occupying a
small settee.

If Mrs. Robinson was personally pugnacious, her husband harbored far
more vicious emotions. Garrison felt this in his manner. The man was
looking at him narrowly.

"How much of your time have you spent with your wife since your
marriage?" he demanded, without the slightest preliminary introduction
to the subject.

Garrison realized at once that Dorothy might have prepared a harmless
fiction with which his answers might not correspond. He assumed a calm
and deliberation he was far from feeling, as he said:

"I was not aware that I should be obliged to account to anyone save
Dorothy for my goings and comings. Up to the present I believe she has
been quite well satisfied with my deportment; haven't you, Dorothy?"

"Perfectly," said Dorothy, whose utterance was perhaps a trifle faint.
"Can't we all be friends--and talk about----"

"I prefer to talk about this for a moment," interrupted her uncle,
still regarding Garrison with the closest scrutiny. "What's your
business, anyway, Mr. Fairfax?"

Garrison, adher