RENT, who was a lawyer, had been detained at his office, and when he finally reached home his wife hurried him up to his room, softly expostulating the while.
"And it never occurred to you, I suppose," she concluded, "that if I had wanted Payton Cotes, I should have asked him myself!"
"Why didn't you, then?"
"Because I didn't—I particularly didn't want him!"
"Well, I'm sorry, dear. But when you 'phone me in the midst of a busy day to fill a sudden vacancy in a dinner-party, if you have any antipathies like this you'd better mention them, for naturally I'm going to ask the first eligible chap I see. Anyway, what's the matter with Cotes? He's much in demand as a dinner guest."
"Oh, he's well enough as a dinner guest—if that were all! It's as a brother-in-law that I object to him!"
"As a wha-at?" Trent seemed to find the suggestion humorous, but the face she turned toward him was full of tragedy.
"Bob, I've just discovered—just this morning—that he's been making love to Polly!"
"The deuce he has! To little Polly, eh?" Trent was still smiling.
"Of course it's all embryonic, as yet. I don't think Polly herself realizes, though I could see plainly enough from what she told me—e And it's got to stop!"
"Why? What's the matter with Cotes?" he again demanded. "He's one of the cleverest—"
"Oh, clever—yes!" She waved an impatient hand. "He's clever! So is the ventriloquist we saw last week, or the funny little clown at the Trocadero—very clever in his way. But you'd hardly care to have either of them in the family, would you? Bob, do hurry and dress!"
"All right." He turned obediently toward his chiffonier. "But you hold your horses! You don't know Cotes yet."
"I know that he never loses an opportunity to
make a gentlemanly sort of clown of himself! He's
always telling dialect stories or playing pranks or
getting himself into impossible situations—"
"Funny ones," interpolated her husband, with a chuckle.
"Oh yes, funny ones! But who wants a funny husband! He has no dignity, no sense of responsibility, nothing to justify a brilliant girl like Polly in— What's the matter?" An ejaculation from him checked her rapid, indignant speech. He was staring blankly at a legal envelop he had taken from his coat. "What's that?"
"By George, I forgot to send that acceptance to Pierce! Will you call a messenger and send it over to his house at once, please? And impress it upon the boy that if there should be no one at home he's to return it to me immediately. I must be perfectly sure that this reaches Earle Pierce to-night. As for Cotes and Polly, don't you fret! All this effervescence of his is on the surface. The men who do business with him know he's all right."
"Maybe," said she, skeptically. "But Mrs. Ames goes abroad next month, for a year, and Polly goes with her. No, Bob, please don't argue! Mrs. Ames was here this afternoon, and it's practically arranged."
"Does Polly know it?"
"Not yet; but she'll be glad enough to go. This sentimental nonsense is still in the bud, and she won't even see it's being nipped."
Trent wagged his head dubiously, and his wife left him, going at once to the library to telephone for a messenger. He finished dressing, and even had time to tell Polly of the latest developments in local politics, in which she was keenly interested, before the first guests arrived.
Lois, who had contemplated sending her sister out to dinner with whatever man her husband should provide in this emergency, occupied these moments in shifting plans and place-cards; and when the party reached the dining-room. Cotes found himself seated as far from Polly Vance as the big circle of the table would permit.
However, there was nothing to prevent his looking at her, and so, presently, he chanced to see her start and turn sharply toward her sister, opening her lips as if to speak. At the moment, Mrs. Trent was talking to the learned Justice in whose honor the dinner was given, and after an uncertain glance at Trent Polly apparently relinquished her purpose; but she paled perceptibly, and Cotes saw with apprehension the deepening trouble in her eyes. Later, as the women arose to leave the table, she met his glance fully, and in reply to his delicately lifted brow nodded almost imperceptibly toward the garden. Accordingly, when the men betook themselves and their cigars to a cool side veranda. Cotes quietly strolled on down the steps and disappeared among the shrubbery.
She was there before him, and as he approached, called softly:
"Oh, hurry! How long you were!"
"Was I? I'm sorry. What is it?"
"You know Earle Pierce?"