mouth at her
age!" he thought.

The fact of Channing's final disappearance was known to him, though not
the manner of it; and at first it had filled him with satisfaction. Now,
however, he realized that to get Channing out of sight was by no means
to get him out of mind. His thoughts went back over the constant and
secret companionship of many weeks, reaching as a climax the night the
two had lost themselves in the mountains. He was uneasy--far more uneasy
than Kate, who had in view a consolation for Jacqueline which Philip did
not as yet suspect.

One day he happened in at Storm, to find Farwell making one of his
frequent visits there. Jacqueline was chatting and laughing with him
with her usual gaiety, but Philip, even as he entered, sensed a certain
air of distress about the girl. It was Farwell's first call since
Channing's disappearance.

"Hello, dominie," the actor greeted him cheerfully, evidently relieved
by his arrival. "We've just been discussing the mysterious Percival. You
knew, of course, that he'd gone without so much as a by-your-leave to
me? Not that only, but took my favorite car and left it running in the
mud, simply shaking itself to pieces. A queer devil!--I had gone to
Cincinnati for a day or two, and when I got back, not a sign of my
guest, neither hair nor hide of him!"

"Rude enough," commented Benoix.

"Oh, rude! Channing and I are old pals, and dropped our manners long
ago. But unfriendly, that's what I call it! Leaving me in the lurch in
that gloomy young barn of mine, without giving me a chance to get
somebody in his place.--I tell you, this thing of being a country
gentleman's the loneliest job I ever tackled! Do come and give me a
cheering word now and then, Benoix.--And the only explanation the rotter
made," he continued resentfully, "was a mere line saying he had been
called to New York on urgent business. Urgent tommyrot! The only
business he knows by sight is his own pleasure."

"His writing?" commented Jacqueline, quietly. "That isn't just
pleasure."

"Oh, yes, it is, or you may be sure he wouldn't be doing it! I know
Channing. He's selfish to the bone. Oh, I'm done with the chap!--The
fact is," he added, very careful not to look at Jacqueline, "these
geniuses aren't to be relied upon, either as friends or anything else,
you see. They're just--geniuses."

"That's quite enough to be expected of them, isn't it?" remarked the
girl, with a steady little smile.

Farwell changed