tered again, and tried to act as if nothing unusual had
happened.

Polly had witnessed Paul's flying departure, and thereafter saw Jack and
Eleanor astounded in the darkened library. When Mr. Dalken rushed in and
dragged them both away, Polly stood open-mouthed and stared after them.
The Jap wisely hurried forward and carefully closed the front door, then
went back to his duties without showing that he had seen the queer
performances of his master, or found Polly standing there, the single
witness of the scene.

Polly still stood in the hall deeply perplexed, when Tom sauntered from
Mr. Dalken's bedroom where he had been smoking a cigarette to steady his
nerves. Now he joined Polly and began a conventional phrase, but was
suddenly interrupted by her.

"What does all this silly behavior mean?" demanded she.

"Do you refer to my behavior?" asked Tom, blandly.

Polly's eyes snapped. "Of course not! Must you always think yourself
first and foremost?"

As this was an unexpected and undeserved slap for Tom, he was still
groping for a clue, when Polly's angry impatience with herself for having
made such a blunder in her calculations about Eleanor and the others,
made her exclaim:

"Well, I can plainly see that Nolla will never make any sort of a
business partner for me! Her foolish head is so turned by beaus, that she
will never settle down until Paul has either spurned her love, or she is
married and divorced again. _Then_ there may be hopes of her attending to
our work."

As Tom was not aware of Paul's sudden appearance and hasty departure, he
still pondered what was best to say to Polly, in her unusual pettish
mood. But she paid no heed to his silence and continued, like most women
will when they have been mistaken, and fear the consequences of an
ill-advised step.

"I declare! if Paul does come back and makes up with Nolla, I shall move
heaven and earth to see that they are safely engaged this time! And that
Jack Baxter, well, I'll make Dalky ship him off to some distant college
so there'll be no further wasting of valuable time with him!"

This last declaration so over-joyed Tom that he found courage to offer a
suggestion. But he was too unwise this time. "You're absolutely right,
Polly dear. That Baxter has nothing better to do than kill time. He never
did a stroke of work in his life, nor did his father before him. Those
young 'lady's men' who live on their ancestor's rewards of labor, never
amount to a row