"I?" I could see by the sudden lift of her brows that Una was now on her guard.

"Yes. You believe in women working, in woman's independence, in the New-Thought idea of unconventional morality, don't you?"

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"Simply that women are or should be perfectly capable of looking out for themselves, as much so as men?"

"That depends a great deal upon the woman, I should say," replied Una, smiling tolerantly.

"I was just about to put a hypothetical question. Do you mind listening? A young girl, for instance, pretty, romantic, a trifle venturesome, weary of the ba.n.a.lities of existence, leaves all the tiresome cares of the city and with the wanderl.u.s.t upon her goes faring forth in search of adventure. A purely hypothetical case, but a typical one. As she wanders through the woods, she comes upon a high stone wall, something like this one of Jerry's, and suddenly remembers that within this wall there lives a young man, beautiful beyond the dreams of the G.o.ds. I have said that she is romantic, also venturesome--"

"Her address, please," muttered Lloyd quickly.

"Do be quiet, Chan--" Marcia went on. "Venturesome, modern, moral--"

"It can't be done," muttered the brute again.

"Chan, do be serious. Curiosity overwhelms the girl. n.o.body is about.

So, putting her fears behind her, she climbs the wall and enters."

The daring impertinence of this recital had stricken Jerry suddenly dumb, but the veins at his temples were swelling with the hot blood that had risen to his face. Una, after a moment of uncertainty, became strangely composed.

"It is a beautiful spot. No one is in sight," Marcia went on amusedly.

"The girl ventures further, and finds the beautiful young man catching trout. She talks to him. I think he is amused at her temerity, also perhaps a little flattered at her marks of confidence--"

"Marcia!" It was Jerry's voice, deep, booming, and I had hardly recognized it. But there was a note in it that caused a hush to fall over the room. The girl looked up as though puzzled.

"You interrupt, Jerry--"

"Neither Una nor I are interested in what you're saying," he cried hoa.r.s.ely, while the rest of the company stared at him.

"_I_ am, Jerry," said Una's voice very coolly. Except for Marcia, perhaps, she was the least ruffled person in the room. "I want very much to hear the rest of the story," she added. "It has possibilities."

Marcia laughed.

"Possibilities, yes. There isn't much left to tell except that the girl spent the afternoon and the evening in the cabin with the beautiful young man and then went over the wall the way she came. Now what I wanted to know, Una dear, is whether you think that morality, conventional or unconventional, can stand a test like that."

Una was silent for a moment and then her words came slowly, rather wistfully.

"Was she a friend of yours?" she asked.

"Oh, yes, a friend."

"And did you know her for any length of time to be honorable, upright, decent?"

"Oh, yes, quite so."

Una paused another moment and when she spoke her voice was crystal-clear.

"Then all I would like to say is that the mind that can conceive of evil in such a piece of innocent imprudence is unclean, beyond words!

Is that all that you wanted to know?"

Marcia leaned back in her chair holding her breath for a moment and then broke into a peal of laughter.

"There! You see. I knew you would agree with me."

The people in the room looked from one to the other, aware of a hidden meaning in the situation. Channing Lloyd had paused in the act of pouring out another gla.s.s of wine and stood blinking heavily. The only sound was a nervous t.i.tter from the Da Costa girl. Una looked around from face to face as though seeking those of her friends and then spoke fearlessly.

"You may not know what this hypothetical question means or its answer?" she said with a smile. "I will tell you. I was that girl.

Jerry Benham, the man. The place was here. I am accustomed to going where and with whom I please." She tossed her small head proudly, "Those who can see evil where evil doesn't exist are welcome to their opinions. As for my friends--"

Here a chorus of protest went up, from the treble of the Da Costa girl to Laidlaw's deep ba.s.s.

"Una--you silly child--of course no one thinks--"

"As for my friends," she repeated, her voice slightly raised, "I will choose them by this token."

I had not misjudged her. Her scorn of Marcia was ineffable, and I think the girl at the tea-urn had a sense of being at a disadvantage, for the idea of Una's frank admission had never entered Marcia's pretty intriguing head. She was hoist with her own petard and covered her confusion by a light laugh which was most unconvincing.

"Of course, Una, I didn't mean--"

But the rest of her sentence was lost in the sudden disintegration of the party into groups, some of which followed Una to the door. Jerry had regained his senses and strode out after her."

"I'm going with you, Una," I heard him say.

"It isn't necessary. I can find the way. Good-by, everybody. No, thanks, Phil."

But Jerry went on with her and I broke through the sympathetic crowd at the doorway and followed. Like Jerry, I too had been stunned, but unlike Jerry, in the reaction I was finding a secret delight in Una's splendid mastery of the situation. The pair were already far in advance of me, Una hurrying sedately, Jerry, his hands deep in his pockets, striding like a furious young G.o.d beside her, earnestly talking. It was not until they heard the sound of my hurrying footsteps that they stopped and turned.

"I can't let you go, Miss Habberton," I said breathlessly, "without letting you know how contrite I am at a slip of the tongue which--"

"It doesn't matter in the least, Mr. Canby. I have nothing to regret."

And then, with her crooked little smile, "But you might have omitted the details."

"I--I--" I stammered.

"It was I--I who told--" Jerry blurted out. "I am to blame. Why shouldn't I tell? Was there anything to be ashamed of? For you? For me?"

"No, Jerry. The surest proof of it is that I'm not angry with you--with either of you. But I must be going."

"I'm going with you," said Jerry quickly.

"No."

"Let him, Miss Habberton," I put in.

"I had better go alone."