"And at that, you just bangs inside the judge's room and in about two minutes, _he_ stuck his head out, looking kinder towsled and mad like he'd been waked from a sound sleep, and he fires a wrapped-up parcel at the door opposite and yells:

"'There are your pajamas, you unnatural, heartless prodigal! Pajamas, indeed, at such a time!' And then I see Mr. Jack's arm come out and fish the package inside.

"Then the judge turns on me and Wilkes and ordered us to clear out and to go to bed. And Wilkes said we'd best do it because the judge would take care of you and get you to your room quietly. And the last thing I heard before he slammed inside his room was:

"'There's one thing; I've got a daughter!'"

I looked at Jenkins miserably. He was _right_; he did have a daughter, and I wanted her. But just now, I wished with all heart that she was somebody's--anybody else's daughter--than that of the man who had witnessed my humiliation.

And afterwards--

_How_ had he managed to get me to my room? And had she seen or heard me?

Oh, she must have!

Well, nothing mattered now--nothing could ever matter any more. It was some miserable comfort to feel, and _know_, that nothing worse could ever happen!

Why, there was nothing _worse_ left in all the world. By Jove, I was sure of _that_ much!

And just then a knock sounded.

CHAPTER x.x.xII

I TOUCH BOTTOM

"Pardon, sir, for not waiting till you came down," the butler was saying, "but Mr. Billings was just so set on me bringing this to you, I _had_ to."

He had entered, responding to Jenkins' invitation, bearing in his hand a gray paper parcel.

"For me?" I questioned, as he laid it on the table, and I eyed it ominously. Yet it could not be the same I had sent Billings myself--I could see that--for it was smaller, more compact, and in a different wrapper. But I was _afraid_ to examine it.

"Yes, sir--he's very bad this morning, sir; the--er--that is, something last night seems to have excited him."

His eye roved eloquently between Jenkins and myself. He continued soberly:

"He's locked me and Perkins out of his rooms again, and wouldn't open the door only wide enough to stick this through. And his message"--hesitatingly--"he said just tell you you had better get these pajamas back where they came from just as quickly as you could--you would _if you were wise_, he said."

"Oh!" I uttered, dazed by this new blow. So it _was_ her pajamas.

But there was more of the message--I could see it in Wilkes' eye.

"Yes, sir," he went on as I gave him a nod. "Mr. Billings called through the door-crack--and his voice was particularly shrill--screechy-like--very unnatural, sir--and he said: 'You tell him I say he'll find it very dangerous to keep them by him a moment; tell him my advice is to return them _immediately_!'"

Here the butler hesitated an instant and added: "And he said for me to try to remember three letters I was to mention--said you would understand."

"Three letters?" I repeated dully.

"Yes, sir, three letters--I did remember 'em, too, because they happened to be the initials of a young woman I--h'm! Q. E. D., sir."

"Q. E. D.?" I said, puzzled and miserable. "What's Q. E. D.?" And then an idea startled me.

"Oh I _say_, you mean--er--P. D. Q.--eh, Wilkes?" It sounded like Jack!

But he seemed sure he didn't; insisted on Q. E. D. When he had withdrawn, I sat there a moment, swallowing hard. By Jove, when a chap has had the hardest blow of his life, and that, too, from his best friend, it's devilish hard to come up smiling. I took a deep breath and tried to pull myself together. I knew, of course, it was all over--everything; it was all over, just as everything was beginning with me. For I knew my life never had been worth a whoop before. Why, by Jove, I never even noticed how beautiful were the trees and the sunshine through the leaves until the last two days! But I _had_ seen it, because _she_ had seen it! And now--now it was all dull and flat and dead again, and all the world was gray! Ever been there--eh?

I climbed heavily to my feet, for I knew, after all, he was acting devilish considerately as _he_ saw things, and I must just have the decency to do as he said--and then go. I couldn't explain, of course.

Mustn't try to do that--so dashed clumsy, I would only complicate it for her. No, I--By Jove, I suddenly felt sick. Sat there, doubled forward, my head between my hands, as the butler retired, softly closing the door behind him.

Presently I pulled myself together. Jenkins, as he helped me dress, eyed me in a frightened way, his face kind of pale and greenish. Neither of us said a word, but I knew I had _his_ sympathy, poor fellow--and it helped! Then, with the parcel in my hand, I marched slowly down the stairs, forgetting even some instructions I should have given Jenkins.

She was there in the living-room--she and the frump. And when I saw her dear face and realized what disaster had come between us, I felt things whirling around me like a jolly what's-its-name and dropped my hand on a chair-back hard, until I could stiffen and smile up. But, by Jove, she was on!

"Is anything the matter, Mr. Lightnut?" she asked, coming toward me--and how kindly, almost tenderly, her sweet face softened!

"Is it anything about Jacky?" snapped the frump.

I shook my head and just gently placed the little wrapped parcel in Frances' hands. My hand shook so I almost dropped it.

"Some--something of yours that was lost," I said, and I knew my voice shook a little, too. "I was fortunate in recovering it." I looked at her--for the last time, I knew--and it was just my devilish luck that she got misty and dim. I whispered hoa.r.s.ely: "Open when you are alone."

And then I walked straight out of the house!

A gardener directed me to the park gates, but there were so many dashed curves and terraces I got hopelessly twisted, and pretty soon didn't know whether I was leaving or coming, don't you know. I sat down on an iron bench to think it over, and, by Jove, I must have dozed off, for the first thing I knew some one yelled my name, and I looked up to see--Billings!

He was looking a bit soiled and disheveled, and his eyes had a hunted look.

"What the devil are you doing, sitting here?" he demanded.

"I--I'm going," I said, hurriedly getting to my feet. "Just resting--I--"

"They told me I would find you here," he said. "Here you are, sitting out here in the hot sun without any hat! Good thing, d.i.c.ky, you haven't got any--h'm!" Then he panted at me: "Say, nice way you and my sister treated me--I don't _think_! But I'll forgive you this time." Here he linked his arm in mine. "I'll forgive you, if you never say anything at the club about those d.a.m.ned black pajamas--nor in the family, either.

Great Scott! I wouldn't have this get out!"

"I wouldn't think of such a thing!" I exclaimed, immeasurably relieved, but indignant, as well. He led me across the turf.

"Oh, I've had an awful time, d.i.c.ky! Awful!"--he lifted his hands--"Oh, I don't want to tell you about it--I don't want even to think about it myself!"

I murmured something sympathetic, for I _felt_ sympathetic with anything; besides, there still lingered a bit of headache from the Heidelberg punch and I could imagine from that what _his_ feelings must have been.

"By George, d.i.c.ky," he burst out again, "the way I've been shut up and treated just seems like some infernal conspiracy. Good thing Jack Ellsworth's dad had a pull with the mayor--tell you all the whole rotten business when I can talk about it quietly."

"That's right! that's right!" I said soothingly, "wouldn't think about it at all now, old chap!" No use reminding him, you know, that he had shut _himself_ up. Besides, the wandering of the mind to Jack Ellsworth and his father showed me that even yet he was not quite himself.