Larry flushed again and related briefly the last night's unhappy incident.

"I'm horribly ashamed of the way I acted," he finished. "And the whole thing showed me I couldn't count on my self-control as I thought I could.

I couldn't sleep last night, and I thought perhaps maybe the thing to do was to get out quick before I did any real damage. It doesn't matter about me. It is Ruth."

"Do you think you can stay on and keep a steady head for her sake and for ours?"

"I can, Uncle Phil. It is up to me to stick and I'll do it. Uncle Phil, how long must a woman in Ruth's position wait before she can legally marry?"

"Ruth's position is so unique that I doubt if there is any legal precedent for it. Ordinarily when the husband fails to put in appearance and the presumption is he is no longer living, the woman is considered free in the eyes of the law, after a certain number of years, varying I believe, in different states. With Ruth the affair doesn't seem to be a case of law at all. She is in a position which requires the utmost protection from those who love her as we do. The obligation is moral rather than legal. I wouldn't let my mind run on the marrying aspects of the case at present my boy."

"I--Uncle Phil, sometimes I think I'll just marry her anyway and let the rest of it take care of itself. There isn't any proof she is married--not the slightest shadow of proof," Larry argued with sudden heat.

His uncle's eyebrows went up. "Steady, Larry. A wedding ring is usually considered presumptive evidence of marriage."

"I don't care," flashed the boy, the tension of the past weeks suddenly snapping. "She loves me. I don't see what right anything has to come between us. What is a wedding ceremony when a man and woman belong to each other as we belong? Hanged if I don't think I'd be justified in marrying her tomorrow! There is nothing but a ring to prevent."

"There is a good deal more than a ring to prevent," said Doctor Holiday with some sternness. "What if you did do just that and her husband appeared in two months or six?"

"I don't believe she has a husband. If she had he would have come after her before this. We've waited. He's had time."

"You have waited scarcely two months, Larry. That is hardly enough time upon which to base finalities."

"What of it? I'm half crazy sometimes over the whole thing. I can't see things straight. I don't want to. I don't want anything but Ruth, whether she is married or not. I want her. Some day I'll ask her to go off with me and she will go. She will do anything I ask."

"Hold on, Larry lad. You are saying things you don't mean. You are the last man in the world to take advantage of a girl's defenseless position and her love for you to gratify your own selfish desires and perhaps wreck her life and your own."

Larry bit his lip, wheeled and went over to the window, staring out into the night. At last he turned back, white, but master of himself again.

"I beg your pardon, Uncle Phil. You are right. I was talking like a fool.

Of course I'll do nothing of the kind. I won't do anything to harm Ruth anyway. I won't even make love to her--if I can help it," he qualified in a little lower tone.

"If you can't you had better go at once," said his uncle still a bit sternly. Then more gently. "I know you don't want to play the cad, Larry."

"I won't, Uncle Phil. I promise."

"Very well. I am satisfied with your word. Remember I am ready to help any way and if it gets too hard I'll make it easy at any time for you to go. But in the mean time we won't talk about it. The least said the better."

Larry nodded his a.s.sent to that and suddenly switched to another subject, asking his uncle what he knew about this Alan Ma.s.sey with whom Tony was having such an extensive correspondence.

His uncle admitted that he didn't know much of anything about him, except that he was the inheritor of the rather famous Ma.s.sey property and an artist of some repute.

"He has plenty of repute of other kinds," said Larry. "He is a thorough-going rotter, I infer. I made some inquiries from a chap who knows him. He has gone the pace and then some. It makes me sick to have Tony mixed up with a chap like that."

"You haven't said anything to her yourself?"

"No. Don't dare. It would only make it worse for me to tackle her.

Neither she nor Ted will stand any interference from me. We are a cranky lot I am afraid. We all have what Dad used to call the family devil. So far as I know you are the only person on record that can manage him."

And Larry smiled rather shame-facedly at his uncle.

"I am afraid you will all three have to learn to manage your own particular familiar. Devils are rather personal property, Larry."

"Don't I know it? I got into mighty close range with mine last night, and just now for that matter. Anyway I am not prepared to do any preaching at anybody at present; but I would be awfully grateful to you if you will speak to Tony. Somebody has to. And you can do it a million times better than anyone else."

"Very well. I will see what I can do." And thus quietly Doctor Holiday accepted another burden on his broad shoulders.

The next day he found Tony on the porch reading one of the long letters which came to her so frequently in the now familiar, dashing script.

"Got a minute for me, niece o' mine?" he asked.

Tony slid Alan's letter back into its envelope and smiled up at her uncle.

"Dozens of them, nice uncle," she answered.

"It is getting well along in the summer and high time we decided a few things. Do you still want to go in for the stage business in the fall?"

"I want to very much, Uncle Phil, if you think it isn't too much like deserting Granny and the rest of you."

"No, you have earned it. I want you to go. I don't suppose because you haven't talked about Hempel's offer that it means you have forgotten it?"

"Indeed, I haven't forgotten it. For myself I would much rather get straight on the stage if I could and learn by doing it, but you would prefer to have me go to a regular dramatic school, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, Tony, I would. A year of preparation isn't a bit too much to get your bearings in before you take the grand plunge. I want you to be very sure that the stage is what you really want."

"I am sure of that already. I've been sure for ages. But I am perfectly willing to do the thing any way you want and I am more grateful than I can tell you that you are on my side about it. Are you going to tell Granny? It will about break her heart I am afraid." Tony's eyes were troubled. She did hate to hurt Granny; but on the other hand she couldn't wait forever to begin.

She did not see the shadow that crept over her uncle's face. Well he knew that long before Tony was before the footlights, Granny would be where prejudices and misunderstandings were no more; but he had no wish to mar the girl's happiness by betraying the truth just now.

"I think we are justified in indulging in a little camouflage there," he said. "We will tell Granny you are going to study art. Art covers a mult.i.tude of sins," he added with a lightness he was far from feeling.

"One thing more, my dear. I have waited a good while to hear something about the young man who writes these voluminous letters."' He nodded at the envelope in Tony's lap. "I like his writing; but I should like to know something about him,--himself."

Tony flushed and averted her eyes for a moment. Then she looked up frankly.

"I haven't said anything because I didn't know what to say. He is Alan Ma.s.sey, the artist. I met him at Carlotta's. He wants to marry me."

"But you have not already accepted him?"

"No, I couldn't. He--he isn't the kind of man you would want me to marry.

He is trying to be, for my sake though. I think he will succeed. I told him if he wanted to ask me again next summer I would tell him what my answer would be."

"He is on probation then?"

"Yes."

"And you care for him?"

"I--think so."

"You don't know it?"