She was only two tables distant. When he bowed, her smile was the slightest; her nod coolly self-possessed. She was wearing orchids.

There seemed to be a girl with her whom he did not know.

Why the sudden encounter should have upset him so--why the quiet glance Elorn bestowed upon Palla should have made him more uncomfortable still, he could not understand.

He lighted a cigarette.

"A wonderfully pretty girl," said Elorn serenely. "I mean the girl you bowed to."

"Yes, she is very charming."

"Who is she, Jim?"

"I met her on the steamer coming back. She is a Miss Dumont."

Elorn's smile was a careless dismissal of further interest. But in her heart perplexity and curiosity contended with concern. For she had seen Jim's face. And had wondered.

He laid away his half-consumed cigarette. She was quite ready to go.

She rose, and he laid the stole around her shoulders. She picked up her m.u.f.f.

As she pa.s.sed through the narrow aisle, she permitted herself a casual side-glance at this girl in black; and Palla looked up at her, kept her quietly in range of her brown eyes to the limit of breeding, then her glance dropped as Jim pa.s.sed; and he heard her speaking serenely to the girl beside her.

At the revolving doors, Elorn said: "Shall I drop you at the office, Jim?"

"Thanks--if you don't mind."

In the car he talked continually, not very entertainingly, but there was more vivacity about him than there had been.

"Are you doing anything to-night?" he inquired.

She was, of course. Yet, she felt oddly relieved that he had asked her.... But the memory of the strange expression in his face persisted in her mind.

Who was this girl with whom he had crossed the ocean? And why should he lose his self-possession on unexpectedly encountering her?

Had there been anything about Palla--the faintest hint of inferiority of any sort--Elorn Sharrow could have dismissed the episode with proud, if troubled, philosophy. For many among her girl friends had cub brothers. And the girl had learned that men are men--sometimes even the nicest--although she could not understand it.

But this brown-eyed girl in black was evidently her own sort--Jim's sort. And that preoccupied her; and she lent only an inattentive ear to the animated monologue of the man beside her.

Before the offices of Sharrow & Co. her car stopped.

"I'm sorry, Jim," she said, "that I'm so busy this week. But we ought to meet at many places, unless you continue to play the recluse. Don't you really go anywhere any more?"

"No. But I'm going," he said bluntly.

"Please do. And call me up sometimes. Take a sporting chance whenever you're free. We ought to get in an hour together now and then. You're coming to my dance of course, are you not?"

"Of course I am."

The girl smiled in her sweet, generous way and gave him her hand again.

And he went into the office feeling rather miserable and beginning to realise why.

For in spite of what he had said to Palla about the wisdom of absenting himself, the mere sight of her had instantly set him afire.

And now he wanted to see her--needed to see her. A day was too long to pa.s.s without seeing her. An evening without her--and another--and others, appalled him.

And all the afternoon he thought of her, his mind scarcely on his business at all.

His parents were dining at home. He was very gay that evening--very amusing in describing his misadventures with Messrs. Puma and Skidder.

But his mother appeared to be more interested in the description of his encounter with Elorn.

"She's such a dear," she said. "If you go to the Speedwells' dinner on Thursday you'll see her again. You haven't declined, I hope; have you, Jim?"

It appeared that he had.

"If you drop out of things this way n.o.body will bother to ask you anywhere after a while. Don't you know that, dear?" she said. "This town forgets overnight."

"I suppose so, mother. I'll keep up."

His father remarked that it was part of his business to know the sort of people who bought houses.

Jim agreed with him. "I'll surely kick in again," he promised cheerfully.... "I think I'll go to the club this evening."

His mother smiled. It was a healthy sign. Also, thank goodness, there were no girls in black at the club.

At the club he resolutely pa.s.sed the telephone booths and even got as far as the cloak room before he hesitated.

Then, very slowly, he retraced his steps; went into the nearest booth, and called a number that seemed burnt into his brain. Palla answered.

"Are you doing anything, dear?" he asked--his usual salutation.

"Oh. It's you!" she said calmly.

"It is. Who else calls you dear? May I come around for a little while?"

"Have you forgotten what you----"

"No! May I come?"

"Not if you speak to me so curtly, Jim."

"I'm sorry."

She deliberated so long that her silence irritated him.

"If you don't want me," he said, "please say so."