"No matter. You hold the ball. I'll untangle it. I never saw a fish-line I could not straighten out."

Nora laughed. It was not possible for her to repress the sound. Her sense of humor was too strong in this case to be denied its release in laughter.

It was free of the subtler emotions; frank merriment, no more, no less.

And possessing the hunter's extraordinarily keen ear, Courtlandt recognized the quality; and the weight of a thousand worlds lightened its pressure upon his heart. And the Barone laughed, too. So there they were, the three of them. But Nora's ineffectual battle for repression had driven her near to hysteria. To escape this dire calamity, she flung open a cas.e.m.e.nt window and stood within it, breathing in the heavy fragrance of the rain-laden air.

This little comedy had the effect of relaxing them all; and the laughter became general. Abbott's smile faded soonest. He stared at his friend in wonder not wholly free from a sense of evil fortune. Never had he known Courtlandt to aspire to be a squire of dames. To see the Barone hold the ball as if it were hot shot was amusing; but the cool imperturbable manner with which Courtlandt proceeded to untangle the snarl was disturbing. Why the deuce wasn't he himself big and strong, silent and purposeful, instead of being a dawdling fool of an artist?

No answer came to his inquiry, but there was a knock at the door. The managing director handed Harrigan a card.

"Herr Rosen," he read aloud. "Send him up. Some friend of yours, Nora; Herr Rosen. I told Mr. Jilli to send him up."

The padre drew his feet under his ca.s.sock, a sign of perturbation; Courtlandt continued to unwind; the Barone glanced fiercely at Nora, who smiled enigmatically.

CHAPTER XV

HERR ROSEN'S REGRETS

Herr Rosen! There was no outward reason why the name should have set a chill on them all, turned them into expectant statues. Yet, all semblance of good-fellowship was instantly gone. To Mrs. Harrigan alone did the name convey a sense of responsibility, a flutter of apprehension not unmixed with delight. She put her own work behind the piano lid, swooped down upon the two men and s.n.a.t.c.hed away the lace-hemming, to the infinite relief of the one and the surprise of the other. Courtlandt would have liked nothing better than to hold the lace in his lap, for it was possible that Herr Rosen might wish to shake hands, however disinclined he might be within to perform such greeting. The lace disappeared. Mrs. Harrigan smoothed out the wrinkles in her dress. From the others there had been little movement and no sound to speak of. Harrigan still waited by the door, seriously contemplating the bit of pasteboard in his hand.

Nora did not want to look, but curiosity drew her eyes imperiously toward Courtlandt. He had not risen. Did he know? Did he understand? Was his att.i.tude pretense or innocence? Ah, if she could but look behind that impenetrable mask! How she hated him! The effrontery of it all! And she could do nothing, say nothing: dared not tell them then and there what he truly was, a despicable scoundrel! The son of her father's dearest friend; what mockery! A friend of the family! It was maddening.

Herr Rosen brushed past Harrigan unceremoniously, without pausing, and went straight over to Nora, who was thereupon seized by an uncontrollable spirit of devilment. She hated Herr Rosen, but she was going to be as pleasant and as engaging as she knew how to be. She did not care if he misinterpreted her mood. She welcomed him with a hand. He went on to Mrs.

Harrigan, who colored pleasurably. He was then introduced, and he acknowledged each introduction with a careless nod. He was there to see Nora, and he did not propose to put himself to any inconvenience on account of the others.

The temporary restraint which had settled upon the others at the announcement of Herr Rosen's arrival pa.s.sed away. Courtlandt, who had remained seated during the initial formalities (a fact which bewildered Abbott, who knew how punctilious his friend was in matters of this kind) got up and took a third of the divan.

Harrigan dropped down beside him. It was his habit to watch his daughter's face when any guest arrived. He formed his impression on what he believed to be hers. That she was a consummate actress never entered into his calculations. The welcoming smile dissipated any doubts.

"No matter where we are, they keep coming. She has as many friends as T.

R. I never bother to keep track of 'em."

"It would be rather difficult," a.s.sented Courtlandt.

"You ought to see the flowers. Loads of 'em. And say, what do you think?

Every jewel that comes she turns into money and gives to charity. Can you beat it? Fine joke on the Johnnies. Of course, I mean stones that turn up anonymously. Those that have cards go back by fast-mail. It's a good thing I don't chance across the senders. Now, boy, I want you to feel at home here in this family; I want you to come up when you want to and at any old time of day. I kind of want to pay back to you all the kind things your dad did for me. And I don't want any Oh-pshawing. Get me?"

"Whatever you say. If my dad did you any favors it was because he liked and admired you; not with any idea of having you discharge the debt in the future by way of inconveniencing yourself on my account. Just let me be a friend of the family, like Abbott here. That would be quite enough honor for me."

"You're on! Say, that blacksmith yarn was a corker. He was a game old codger. That was sc.r.a.pping; no hall full of tobacco-smoke, no palm-fans, lemonade, peanuts and pop-corn; just right out on the turf, and may the best man win. I know. I went through that. No frame-ups, all square and on the level. A fellow had to fight those days, no sparring, no pretty footwork. Sometimes I've a hankering to get back and exchange a wallop or two. Nothing to it, though. My wife won't let me, as the song goes."

Courtlandt chuckled. "I suppose it's the monotony. A man who has been active hates to sit down and twiddle his thumbs. You exercise?"

"Walk a lot."

"Climb any?"

"Don't know that game."

"It's great sport. I'll break you in some day, if you say. You'll like it.

The mountains around here are not dangerous. We can go up and down in a day."

"I'll go you. But, say, last night Nora chucked a bunch of daisies out of the window, and as I was nosing around in the vineyard, I came across it.

You know how a chap will absently pick a bunch of flowers apart. What do you think I found?"

"A note?"

"This." Harrigan exhibited the emerald. "Who sent it? Where the d.i.c.kens did it come from?"

Courtlandt took the stone and examined it carefully. "That's not a bad stone. Uncut but polished; oriental."

"Oriental, eh? What would you say it was worth?"

"Oh, somewhere between six and seven hundred."

"Suffering shamrocks! A little green pebble like this?"

"Cut and flawless, at that size, it would be worth pounds instead of dollars."

"Well, what do you think of that? Nora told me to keep it, so I guess I will."

"Why, yes. If a man sends a thing like this anonymously, he can't possibly complain. Have it made into a stick pin." Courtlandt returned the stone which Harrigan pocketed.

"Sometimes I wish Nora'd marry and settle down."

"She is young. You wouldn't have quit the game at her age!"

"I should say not! But that's different. A man's business is to fight for his grub, whether in an office or in the ring. That's a part of the game.

But a woman ought to have a home, live in it three-fourths of the year, and bring up good citizens. That's what we are all here for. Molly used to stay at home, but now it's the social bug, gadding from morning until night. Ah, here's Carlos with the tea."

Herr Rosen instantly usurped the chair next to Nora, who began to pour the tea. He had come up from the village prepared for a disagreeable half-hour. Instead of being greeted with icy glances from stormy eyes, he encountered such smiles as this adorable creature had never before bestowed upon him. He was in the clouds. That night at Cadenabbia had apparently knocked the bottom out of his dream. Women were riddles which only they themselves could solve for others. For this one woman he was perfectly ready to throw everything aside. A man lived but once; and he was a fool who would hold to tinsel in preference to such happiness as he thought he saw opening out before him. Nora saw, but she did not care.

That in order to reach another she was practising infinite cruelty on this man (whose one fault lay in that he loved her) did not appeal to her pity.

But her arrow flew wide of the target; at least, there appeared no result to her archery in malice. Not once had the intended victim looked over to where she sat. And yet she knew that he must be watching; he could not possibly avoid it and be human. And when he finally came forward to take his cup, she leaned toward Herr Rosen.

"You take two lumps?" she asked sweetly. It was only a chance shot, but she hit on the truth.

"And you remember?" excitedly.

"One lump for mine, please," said Courtlandt, smiling.

She picked up a cube of sugar and dropped it into his cup. She had the air of one wishing it were poison. The recipient of this good will, with perfect understanding, returned to the divan, where the padre and Harrigan were gravely toasting each other with Benedictine.

Nora made no mistake with either Abbott's cup or the Barone's; but the two men were filled with but one desire, to throw Herr Rosen out of the window. What had begun as a beautiful day was now becoming black and uncertain.

The Barone could control every feature save his eyes, and these openly admitted deep anger. He recollected Herr Rosen well enough. The encounter over at Cadenabbia was not the first by many. Herr Rosen! His presence in this room under that name was an insult, and he intended to call the interloper to account the very first opportunity he found.