ity to return it.

Three minutes afterwards Farrell did a stranger thing. Going direct
from the house to the telephone in the garage, he took up the receiver
and called up the house. Owen, passing by, stopped spellbound, at the
door, to hear these mandatory words spoken by the chauffeur to Harry
Marvin, whose answering voice could actually be heard by Owen through
the open window of the library.

"Mr. Marvin, you are needed at your office. Come at once," phoned
Farrell.

He was grinning again as he came out of the garage, got into a machine
and drove away. Owen gazed after him with puzzled, lowering brows.

CHAPTER XVII

PALMER COMES BACK

Harry had just hung up the receiver of the telephone and had turned to
Pauline with feigned disappointment.

"My office is calling me," he said. "I'm needed there at once. I
shan't be able to go to the wedding."

The sight of the happiness fading from her flowerlike face filled him
with shame. It was the first time in his life that he had lied to her
and he was half sorry now that he had done so. But he must go through
with it now, and if there was apology in the kisses he pressed on her
reproachful eyes it was not confessed.

"I am going to the wedding just the same," declared Pauline.

"Of course, you are," he agreed heartily. "Farrell will be back with
the car by five o'clock."

"But who will chaperon me?" she objected, woman-like, to her own
decision. "It would look absurd to take Margaret, and Owen isn't
invited."

"You will not need a chaperon going over--provided Farrell gets
back," he said as he took his hat from the table.

"You mean you don't believe Farrell will get back!" she exclaimed.
"You are treating me like a child. You don't want me to go to the
wedding just because you can't go."

"Now, don't, don't," he pleaded, as she started to leave the room. "I
don't mean anything of the kind. I mean Farrell is the only man who
can drive the large car or the roadster safely. There is no reason in
the world why he shouldn't get back."

"And how am I to come home?" she demanded, turning again toward him.

"I will call for you in the runabout on my way from New York. Perhaps
even I shall be able to arrive in time to greet the happy pair," he
added cheerfully. "You'll make my excuses."

Owen, who was listening at the door, had just time, to glide away
before Harry hurried out.

The young master of the house had driven far toward the s