Mr.
Thayer?"

"It is a hard matter to measure. Lorimer drinks less than a good many
men; but it takes less to upset him. In Germany, the students all drink,
and he was with them. As a rule, he stopped in time, but occasionally he
was a little silly. Once or twice it was worse."

"How much worse?" The question was almost masculine in its direct
brevity.

"I helped him to bed."

She compressed her lips. Then,--

"Go on," she said.

"I can't tell what happened while I was in Italy, and Lorimer had left
Berlin before I went back there, so I didn't see him till I came to New
York. At first, I thought he had stopped all that sort of thing. His
color was better, his hand steadier. I knew the temptation was less
here, and I hoped he was so taken up with Miss Dane that he wouldn't
have time to get into the wrong set. The night of the Lloyd Avalons's
recital, he was not quite himself, and I advised him to go to Washington
while the matter blew over."

"Strange I didn't hear of it," Miss Gannion said thoughtfully.

"Dane and I saw to it that the story shouldn't get outside the walls of
the smoking-room. Dane is a good fellow, and no fool. He got wind of the
trouble and came for me, and we hurried Lorimer away as fast as
possible. The next day, I began to hear of a supper or two where Lorimer
had been making himself a bit conspicuous."

"And since then?"

"Only twice."

"But twice is more than enough."

"It shows that the trouble is still there, that one can't count on his
promises," Thayer assented gravely.

"He does promise?"

"Yes, like a child. That is the pitiful part of it, pitiful and yet
exasperating. He admits his own weakness, and is sorry and ashamed, as
soon as he comes to himself. For a time, he is a model of caution and
sobriety. Then he blunders into the way of temptation and makes a mess
of it all." Unconsciously Thayer's voice betrayed his dislike of a
weakness of which he had no comprehension. An instant later, he seemed
to realize his own self-betrayal and he pulled himself up sharply. "I
wish you knew Lorimer better, Miss Gannion. Then you would understand
why I am telling you all this. He is so loyal, so generous to his
friends, so full of talent. At Goettingen, they called him the most
brilliant American who had ever studied there, and he was by all odds
the most popular fellow of his time. His very popularity increased the
danger." As if he had been pleading his own cause, Thayer's voice w