or his nightmare efforts to revamp
it for Paula; had charged it off his books altogether. What Mary had told
him at Hickory Hill about her labors in its behalf had signified simply,
how rapturously delicious it was that she should have been so concerned
for him. The possibility of a successful outcome to her efforts hadn't
occurred to him.

She said, smiling with an amused tenderness over his confusion, "I
haven't been too officious, have I?"

He knew he was being mocked at and he managed to smile but he had
to blink and press his hand to his eyes again before he could see
her clearly.

"It's not astonishing that you can work miracles," he said. "The wonder
would be if you could not."

"There was nothing in the least miraculous about this," she declared. "It
wasn't done by folding my wings and weaving mystic circles with a wand.
Besides making that translation,--oh, terribly bad, I'm afraid,--into
French, I've cajoled and intrigued industriously for weeks like one of
those patient wicked little spiders of Henri Fabre's. I found a silly
flirtation between Fournier and a married woman I knew and I encouraged
it, helped it along and made it useful. I've used everybody I could lay
my hands on."

What an instrument of ineffable delight that voice of hers was,--its
chalumeau tenderness just relieved with the sparkle of irony. But he was
smitten now with the memory of his own refusal to go to Ravinia so that
Paula would remember him again. He blurted out something of his
contrition over this but she stopped him.

"It was only because I wanted you there. I would not for any conceivable
advantage in the world have let you--oh, even touch these devices that
I've been concerned with. But I've reveled in them myself. In doing them
for you, even though I could not see that they were getting anywhere.

"Everything seemed quite at a standstill when I left Ravinia Thursday,
but on Thursday night the Williamsons dined with Mr. Eckstein and went to
the park with him; and they all went home with father and Paula
afterward, Fournier and LaChaise, too; and everything happened at once. I
got a note from Paula this morning written yesterday, asking where my
translation was, but not telling me anything. And as she wasn't at home
when I telephoned to answer her question I didn't know until to-night.

"But about six o'clock James Wallace telephoned from the park and told
me all about it. He wanted you found and sent to Ravinia at once.