patient, or I shall begin to lose my faith
in human nature. Just say at once that it was an outrage and I'll forgive
you! You see," Miss Enderby went on, "it isn't merely that he's a jay;
but he isn't a very nice jay. None of the men like him--except Freddy
Lancaster, of course; he likes everybody, on principle; he doesn't count.
I thought that perhaps, although he's so crude and blunt, he might be
sensitive and high-minded; you're always reading about such things; but
they say he isn't, in the least; oh, not the least! They say he goes with
a set of fast jays, and that he's dreadful; though he has a very good
mind, and could do very well if he chose. That's what cousin Jim said
to-day; he's just been at our house; and it was so extremely telepathic
that I thought I must run round and prevent your having the man on your
conscience if you felt you had had too much of him. You won't lay him up
against us, will you?" She jumped to her feet.

"You dear!" said Bessie, keeping Mary Enderby's hand, and pressing it
between both of hers against her breast as they now stood face to face,
"do come up and have some tea!"

"No, no! Really, I can't."

They were both involuntarily silent. The door had been opened to some
one, and there was a brief parley, which ended in a voice they knew to be
the doctor's, saying, "Then I'll go right up to his room." Both the girls
broke into laughing adieux, to hide their consciousness that the doctor
was going up to see Alan Lynde, who was never sick except in the one way.

Miss Enderby even said: "I was so glad to see Alan looking so well, last
night."

"Yes, he had such a good time," said Bessie, and she followed her friend
to the door, where she kissed her reassuringly, and thanked her for
taking all the trouble she had, bidding her not be the least anxious on
her account.

It seemed to her that she should sink upon the stairs in mounting them to
the library. Mary Enderby had told her only what she had known before; it
was what her brother had told her; but then it had not been possible for
the man to say that he had brought Alan home tipsy, and been alone in the
house with her at three o'clock in the morning. He would not only boast
of it to all that vulgar comradehood of his, but it might get into those
terrible papers which published the society scandals. There would be no
way but to appeal to his pity, his generosity. She fancied herself
writing to him, but he could show her note, and