ing; but the cool imperturbable manner
with which Courtlandt proceeded to untangle the snarl was disturbing. Why
the deuce wasn't he himself big and strong, silent and purposeful, instead
of being a dawdling fool of an artist?

No answer came to his inquiry, but there was a knock at the door. The
managing director handed Harrigan a card.

"Herr Rosen," he read aloud. "Send him up. Some friend of yours, Nora;
Herr Rosen. I told Mr. Jilli to send him up."

The padre drew his feet under his cassock, a sign of perturbation;
Courtlandt continued to unwind; the Barone glanced fiercely at Nora, who
smiled enigmatically.

CHAPTER XV

HERR ROSEN'S REGRETS

Herr Rosen! There was no outward reason why the name should have set a
chill on them all, turned them into expectant statues. Yet, all semblance
of good-fellowship was instantly gone. To Mrs. Harrigan alone did the name
convey a sense of responsibility, a flutter of apprehension not unmixed
with delight. She put her own work behind the piano lid, swooped down upon
the two men and snatched away the lace-hemming, to the infinite relief of
the one and the surprise of the other. Courtlandt would have liked nothing
better than to hold the lace in his lap, for it was possible that Herr
Rosen might wish to shake hands, however disinclined he might be within to
perform such greeting. The lace disappeared. Mrs. Harrigan smoothed out
the wrinkles in her dress. From the others there had been little movement
and no sound to speak of. Harrigan still waited by the door, seriously
contemplating the bit of pasteboard in his hand.

Nora did not want to look, but curiosity drew her eyes imperiously toward
Courtlandt. He had not risen. Did he know? Did he understand? Was his
attitude pretense or innocence? Ah, if she could but look behind that
impenetrable mask! How she hated him! The effrontery of it all! And she
could do nothing, say nothing: dared not tell them then and there what he
truly was, a despicable scoundrel! The son of her father's dearest friend;
what mockery! A friend of the family! It was maddening.

Herr Rosen brushed past Harrigan unceremoniously, without pausing, and
went straight over to Nora, who was thereupon seized by an uncontrollable
spirit of devilment. She hated Herr Rosen, but she was going to be as
pleasant and as engaging as she knew how to be. She did not care if he
misinterpreted her mood. She welcomed him with a hand. He went on to Mrs.
Harrigan,