"And then?"

"And then ideas began to occur to him--"

"Exactly. He began to ask questions--to make innuendoes--"

"Yes. I then threw him out of the window. It was some consolation. That is the story."

Hughie turned away, and gazed dejectedly into the fender. Presently Jimmy Marrable remarked:--

"And meanwhile the fat is in the fire?"

"It is," said Hughie bitterly. "Uncle Jimmy, what _will_ she think?

Everything is bound to come out now,--that fellow will run about telling everybody,--and when she hears of the cruel position I've placed her in she'll never speak to me again. We shan't even be ordinary good friends now. Poor little girl! I've done her the worst turn a man can do a woman; and I would have _died_ for her--cheerfully!"

Hughie leaned against the tall mantelpiece and dropped his head upon his arms. "Joey! Joey!" he murmured to himself, very softly.

Jimmy Marrable retired to a remote corner of the room, where he spent some time selecting a cigar from Jack Leroy's private locker. Presently he returned. Observing that his nephew was apparently not quite ready to resume the conversation, he spent some time in lighting the cigar, bridging over the silence with a rumbling soliloquy.

"It is a blessing to be back on dry land again," he observed, "where cigars will keep in decent condition. No more green weeds for me! What I like is a good crisp Havana that splits open if you squeeze the end, instead of--"

Hughie once more stood erect on the hearthrug. The fit had pa.s.sed.

Jimmy Marrable eyed him curiously.

"Hughie, boy," he said, "it was a mad, mad scheme. Why did you do it?"

Hughie turned upon him, and blazed out suddenly.

"Why?" he cried. "Because there was nothing else to do! Do you think I would let our Joey--no, d.a.m.n it! _my_ Joey--go out as a governess or a chorus-girl--yes, she actually suggested _that_!--when I could keep her happy and comfortable by telling one little white lie? It may have been a mad thing to do; but it was a choice of evils, and I'd do it again! So stuff that up your cigar and smoke it!"

"Silly young owl!" remarked Jimmy Marrable. He lit his cigar with fastidious care, and continued:--

"I suppose you want an explanation from _me_ now?"

"Yes."

"Well, the withdrawal of that money was an eleventh-hour notion. It suddenly occurred to me that you, with your imbecile ideas about honour and filthy lucre, and so forth, might feel squeamish about making love to a girl with a fat bank balance. So just before I sailed I drew the money out, imagining that by so doing I should be removing the only obstacle to a happy union between you and Joey. The entire affair was intended to be a walk-over for you. Between us, we seem to have made a bonny mess of things. Hughie, we Marrables are not cut out for feminine fancywork."

"What is to be done now?" said Hughie gloomily.

"I have thought of that," said Jimmy Marrable. "When a man gets in a hopeless tangle of any kind, his best plan is to ask a woman to help him out. That is what we shall have to do. Wait here a few minutes."

He turned towards the door.

"Mildred Leroy won't be in for half an hour yet," called Hughie after him, "so it's no good looking for her."

"All right!" replied Jimmy Marrable's voice far up the stairs.

CHAPTER XX

SINFUL WASTE OF A PENNY STAMP

Ten minutes pa.s.sed. Hughie, leaning heavily against the frame of the French window, gazed listlessly out at a squirrel which was inviting him to a game of hide-and-seek from the far side of a tree-trunk.

"One thing," he mused,--"I shall be able to go abroad again now. No more of this--"

There was the faintest perceptible rustle behind him. Joan must have come in very quietly, for the door was shut and she was sitting on the corner of the writing-table,--exactly where the recently-departed Haliburton had been posing,--swinging her feet and surveying her late guardian's back. In her hand she held a pink slip of paper.

Hughie never forgot the picture that she presented at that moment. She was dressed in white--something workmanlike and unenc.u.mbering--with a silver filigree belt around her waist. She wore a battered Panama hat--the sort of headgear affected by "c.o.o.ns" of the music-hall persuasion--with a wisp of pale blue silk twisted round it. The evening sun, streaming through the most westerly of the windows, glinted on her hair, her belt, and the silver buckles on her shoes. Hughie caught his breath.

Joan spoke first.

"Here's something for you, Hughie," she said.

Hughie took the proffered slip of paper. It was a cheque, made out to himself and signed by Jimmy Marrable.

"I think that covers all the expense to which you have been put on my account while Uncle Jimmy has been away," said Joan. Her voice sounded gruff and businesslike.

Hughie examined the cheque. "Yes," he said, "it does."

"It was very good of you," said Joan formally, "to advance me so much money. I had no idea you were doing it. Apparently you might never have got it back again."

Hughie gazed at her curiously. He began to grasp the situation. He was to be whitewashed: the compromising past was to be decently buried, and "Temporary Loan" was to be its epitaph.

"Never mind that," he said awkwardly. "All in the day's work, you know!

Afraid I was a rotten trustee."

Suddenly Joan's demeanour changed.

"And now, my man," she said briskly, "will you be good enough to explain what you mean by compromising a lady in this way?"

Hughie looked at her for a moment in dismay. Then he saw that her eyes were twinkling, and he heaved a sudden sigh of incredulous relief. He was forgiven!

"Joey!" he said,--"Joey, you mean to say you're not angry?"

"Furious!" replied Miss Gaymer, smiling in her old friendly fashion.

"Thank G.o.d!" said Hughie.

Miss Gaymer changed the subject, rather hurriedly.

"There's something else I want to ask you," she said. "Will you kindly inform me what has become of my--ahem!--young man?"

"Who?" said Hughie. "Oh, _that_ chap? He is gone."