Captain Dan started violently. He had asked himself that very question many times during the week which had just pa.s.sed. To have someone else ask it, however, was too much. He bristled up like an angry cat.

"By G.o.dfreys!" he sputtered, "what do you mean? Do you mean to hint--"

"I'm not hinting anything. Be quiet, or I'll stop right here. What do you know about Hungerford, anyway? Why is he here at your house?"

"Here! Why--why, he's here 'cause we asked him to stay. He's on his vacation and he's just makin' us a visit. As to knowin' anything about him, what do you mean by that? Do YOU know anything about him?"

"Not much. Neither does anyone else; that's the queer part of it. While old lady Dott--your Aunt Lavinia--occupied this house, he was here a good deal. He didn't do anything then, except to be a general high-flyer around town with a few chums like Monty Holway, who is another gay young bird with money. After Mrs. Dott went abroad to live, he left Scarford and went to Providence a while; after that to Boston and New York, and various places. He had the reputation of being something of a sport, and in with a fast set. Now, all at once, he comes back here and settles down on--with you and your wife. What did he do that for?"

"I--I don't know. He didn't intend to settle. Says he didn't, anyway. As for bein' a sport--well, he's told us about that, told Serena the whole yarn. He owned up that he never took life very seriously while Aunt Laviny lived; had plenty of money and didn't have to. But now it's different. He's realized that he must work, same as other folks, and he's doin' it. He works for some magazine or other, doin' what he calls literary work."

"Humph! What magazine is it?"

"I don't know. I never asked."

"Well, all right. I tell you, honestly, Dan, there's a feeling that he is working you and the family for easy marks. You give him a good home and plenty to eat and smoke and it's a pretty soft thing for him. As to work--Humph!"

Daniel hesitated now. He had had faint but uneasy suspicions along this very line, although these, like other suspicions and misgivings, he had kept to himself. And Serena was such a firm believer in Cousin Percy; at the least hint against that young gentleman she flew to arms. The captain remembered this and his strong sense of loyalty to his wife caused him to remonstrate. He shook his head.

"No, no," he said, "you're wrong there, Barney, sure you are. Why, Percy has done a lot of writin' and such since he's been here. He goes to his room 'most every afternoon to write, and he's helped Serena with her Chapter papers and speeches more than you could imagine. As for Gertie's trottin' around with him, that's just foolishness. She's gone to picture shows and such when he asked her to, but that's only because she likes such things and wanted company her own age. It's all foolishness, I tell you. If anybody says 'tain't, you tell 'em I say they're lyin'. By G.o.dfreys! if they say it to me I'll--"

"There! there! Keep your hair on, I tell you."

"'Tis on, what there is left of it. But, Barney, what sort of talk have you been givin' me? If Hungerford ain't all right, how is it that he knows so many folks in this town? How is it that he's invited everywhere, to all sorts of places, into everybody's houses?

Invitations! Why, he gets more'n we do, and," with a sigh, "land knows that's enough, nowadays."

B. Phelps grunted contemptuously. "It is easy enough to get invitations," he observed. "When you've been in this town as long as I have you'll know that any young fellow, who is as good looking and entertaining as he is, will be invited to all sorts of things. The girls like him, so do their mothers--some of them. But there! I may be all wrong. Anyhow, I mustn't stay with you any longer or Annette'll be suspicious that you and I are knocking her dashed Chapter. I've told you this for your own good. Gertrude's a bully girl; I always liked her--wished a good many times I had a daughter like her. I should hate to see her get in wrong like--well, like some people you and I know.

You keep her at home as much as you can. Good Lord, man!" with sudden vehemence, "do you want your house to get to be an empty d----d hole, only fit to sleep in, like--like--Yes, Annette, I'm coming."

This conversation remained in Captain Dan's head for days. It disturbed him greatly. Several times he made up his mind to speak to Serena concerning it, but each time he changed his mind. He even thought of writing a note to John Doane, urging the latter to run down to Scarford for a few days, but he was fearful that to do this might be a mistake.

John would tell Gertrude, and she might not like it. Besides, Gertrude had said that she expected John to come before very long. So Daniel did nothing further than to remonstrate mildly concerning the acceptance of Miss Canby's invitation. As he gave no reason for his objection, other than the general one that he was tired and did not care about it, his remonstrances were unheeded. He need not go unless he wished, said Serena, she and Gertrude and Cousin Percy could go and he could stay at home and rest. Gertrude said the same. When the evening came, the whole family went, the captain included.

Annette had characterized the gifted Miss Canby as unusual, and the social affairs given by her as unique. After the first half hour in the "Bohemian" apartments, Daniel would have agreed with her, although his opinion might have been more emphatically expressed. Miss Canby WAS unusual, her apartments were unusual, and the "Bohemians" there gathered most unusual of all.

Gertrude, strolling about in the company of a young gentleman--not a Bohemian, but, like herself, merely a commonplace guest--found her father seated in a corner, sheltered by a j.a.panese screen and an imitation palm, and peering out at the a.s.sembled company with a bewildered expression on his face.

"Well, Daddy," she asked, "are you having a good time?"

Daniel, who had not noticed her approach, started and looked up.

"Hey?" he asked. "A good time! My soul and body! Yes, I'm havin' a good time. I haven't had a better one since I went to the sideshow at the circus. Who's that long-legged critter with the lay-down collar and the ribbon necktie? That one over there, talking to the woman with the hair that don't match. What ails him?"

Gertrude looked and laughed. "That is Mr. Abercrombie, the poet," she said. "Nothing ails him; he is a genius, that's all."

"Humph! That must be bad enough, then. What--"

He stopped. His daughter's escort had caught his attention. The young man's face was familiar.

"Why!" he faltered, "isn't this--"

"This is Mr. Holway, Daddy. I wanted you to meet him."

Her tone was quite serious, but there was an odd expression in her eye.

Mr. Holway, blond, immaculate and blase, bowed. Then he, too, started.

"Eh!" he exclaimed. "Why, by Jove!"

Captain Dan nodded. "Yes," he observed, quietly. "Well, I'm much obliged to you, Gertie, but Mr. Holway and I have met before."

Gertrude's surprise, real or a.s.sumed, was great.

"Have you?" she cried. "Why, how odd! When?"

Mr. Holway, himself, answered. He seemed confused and his explanation was hurriedly given.

"Your father and I met one afternoon at--at the Palatine," he stammered.

"I--I should have known. Tacks told me, but--but I had forgotten. I'm ashamed of my part in that, Mr. Dott. I really am. I owe you an apology.

I hope you--I hope--"

Captain Dan nodded. "All right," he said briefly. "Don't say any more about it."

"But--but I hope you and Miss Dott won't--won't think--"

"We won't. I won't, anyway. I stopped thinking about it long ago. Well, Gertie, what have you been doin'? 'Most time to go home, is it?"

"Time to go home? Why, Daddy, we've just got here. We haven't been here an hour yet."

"Haven't we? I want to know! Seemed a good deal longer than that to me.

All right, don't you worry about me. I can stand it, I guess. Where's your mother and--and Cousin Percy?"

"Mother is in the next room with Mrs. Lake and some more of the Chapter members. Cousin Percy is--Oh, here he comes now."

Hungerford appeared, strolling in their direction. He seemed surprised when he saw his relatives in company with Mr. Holway.

"h.e.l.lo, Monty!" he said. "You here? How are you?"

The two young men shook hands. Gertrude smiled upon them both.

"Father and Mr. Holway were renewing acquaintanceship," she observed, cheerfully. "It seems that they have met before."

Cousin Percy's acknowledgment of this statement was a brief "Oh, indeed!" He and his friend exchanged glances.

"The--er--performance is about to begin, I believe," announced Mr.

Hungerford. "Our hostess has--er--reluctantly consented to be led to the piano. Shall you and I adjourn to the next room, Cousin?"

Gertrude shook her head.

"Oh, thank you," she said, "but Mr. Holway has been telling me the most interesting stories about Scarford and the people in it, and I want to hear the rest. He is dreadfully sarcastic; I should not listen, I know, but I want to. Come, Mr. Holway."