night and is a weekly communicant. I can stand a little
tardiness once a week for the sake of having a man like Michael
around."
"Good boy is Michael," put in Thornton. "I wish I could get just a
small dose of his piety. Candidly, I am awfully lonesome sometimes
without a little of it.
A page came running up. "Telephone for you, Mr. Orville," he said; and
at almost the same moment the doorman called out: "Your car is here
now, sir." Orville went to the telephone booth, but returned in a
moment.
"Lucky for us that we waited," he said. "It was Marion who called. She
is at the Congress, and she wants me to take her home. She came
down-town with her brother to meet the Dixes from Omaha, and that
worthless pup has gone off and left her. She knew that I was here
to-night, and 'phoned, hoping to catch me. We will pass around by the
hotel and take her back with us."
When the friends came out, Michael was standing with his hand on the
knob of the big limousine's door. "I am sorry if I made you wait,
sir," he said. "I had a fainting spell in the church and could not get
away sooner. A doctor said it was a little heart attack; but I am all
right now."
Orville answered kindly. "I am sorry you were ill, Michael, but we are
glad enough that you were late. That ill wind for you blew good to us,
for we have Miss Fayall home with us. If you had been on time we
would have missed her. Go around to the Congress first."
The car glided down Michigan avenue to the hotel, where Marion was
already waiting in the ladies' lobby. She looked just what she was,
the pampered and petted daughter of a rich man. Tonight her cheeks
were flushed and her hand was very unsteady. Orville noticed both when
she entered the car. He was startled, for Marion was his fiancee. He
knew that she was usually full of life and spirit; but this midnight
gaiety worried him, and all the more that he loved the girl sincerely.
Marion talked fast and furiously, railing continually at her brother;
but she averted her face from Orville as much as possible and spoke to
Thornton. Orville said nothing after he had greeted her.
The car sped on, passed the club again and down toward the bridge at
the foot of the avenue. Marion was scolding at Thornton as they
approached the bridge at a good rate of speed. Orville was staring
straight ahead, so only he saw Michael's hand make a quick movement
toward the controller, and another movement, at the same time, as if
his
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