"Go on."

"Marjory liked this fellow well enough because--well, because he looked more or less like a man. He was big physically, and all that.

Besides, his ancestors were all men, and I suppose they handed down something."

"What was his name?"

"I think I 'd rather not tell you that. It's of no importance. This is all strictly in confidence."

"I understand."

"So she let herself see a good deal of him. He was able to amuse her.

That kind of fellow generally can entertain a woman. In fact, that is about all they are good for. When it comes down to the big things, there is n't much there. They are well enough for the holidays, and I guess that was all she was thinking about. She had had a hard time, and wanted amus.e.m.e.nt. Maybe she fancied that was all she ever wanted; but--well, there was more in her than she knew herself."

"A thousand times more!" exclaimed Peter.

"She found it out. Perhaps, after all, this fellow served his purpose in helping her to realize that."

"Perhaps."

"So, after that, he left."

"And he cared for her?"

"Yes."

"Poor devil!"

"I don't know," mused Monte. "He seemed, on the whole, rather glad that he had been able to do that much for her."

"I 'd like to meet that man some day. I have a notion there is more in him than you give him credit for, Covington."

"I doubt it."

"A man who would give up her--"

"She's the sort of woman a man would want to do his level best for,"

broke in Monte. "If that meant giving her up,--if the fellow felt he was n't big enough for her,--then he could n't do anything else, could he?"

"The kind big enough to consider that would be big enough for her,"

declared Peter.

Monte drew a quick breath.

"Do you mind repeating that?"

"I say the man really loving her who would make such a sacrifice comes pretty close to measuring up to her standard."

"I think he would like to hear that. You see, it's the first real sacrifice he ever undertook."

"It may be the making of him."

"Perhaps."

"He'll always have her before him as an ideal. When you come in touch with such a woman as she--you can't lose, Covington, no matter how things turn out."

"I 'll tell him that too."

"It's what I tell myself over and over again. To-day--well, I had an idea there must be some one in the background of her life I did n't know about."

"You 'd better get that out of your head. This man is n't even in the background, Noyes."

"I 'm not so sure. I thought she seemed worried. I tried to make her tell me, but she only laughed. She'd face death with a smile, that woman. I got to thinking about it in my room, and that's why I came down here to you. You've seen more of her these last few months than I have."

"Not months; only weeks."

"And this other--I don't want to pry into her affairs, but we're all just looking to her happiness, are n't we?"

"Consider this other man as dead and gone," cut in Monte. "He was lucky to be able to play the small part in her life that he did play."

"But something is disturbing her. I know her voice; I know her laugh.

If I did n't have those to go by, there'd be something else. I can _feel_ when she's herself and when she is n't."

Monte grasped his chair arms. He had studied her closely the last few days, and had not been able to detect the fact that she was worried.

He had thought her gayer, more light-hearted, than usual. It was so that she had held herself before him. If Peter was right,--and Monte did not doubt the man's superior intuition,--then obviously she was worrying over the technicality that still held her a prisoner. Until she was actually free she would live up to the letter of her contract.

This would naturally tend to strain her intercourse with Peter. She was not one to take such things lightly.

Monte rose, crossed the room, and placed his hand on Peter's shoulder.

"I think I can a.s.sure you," he said slowly, "that if there is anything bothering her now, it is nothing that will last. All you've got to do is to be patient and hold on."

"You seem to be mighty confident."

"If you knew what I know, you'd be confident too."

Peter frowned.

"I don't like discussing these things, but--they mean so much."

"So much to all of us," nodded Monte. "Now, the thing to do is to turn in and get a good night's sleep. After all, there _is_ something in keeping normal."

CHAPTER XXI

BACK TO SCHEDULE

Monte rose the next morning to find the skies leaden and a light, drizzling rain falling that promised to continue all day. It was the sort of weather that ordinarily left him quite helpless, because, not caring for either bridge or billiards, nothing remained but to pace the hotel piazza--an amus.e.m.e.nt that under the most favorable conditions has its limitations. But to-day--even though the rain had further interfered with his arrangements by making it necessary to cancel the trip he had planned for Marjory and Peter to Cannes--the weather was an inconsequential incident. It did not matter greatly to him whether it rained or not.