two hours subsequent to that in which Jack, crushed sad humiliated by
his uncle's knavery, had crept downstairs and into the street.

In this frame of mind the poor boy had stopped at the Magnolia in the
hope of finding Garry, who must, he thought, have left Corinne at home,
and then retraced his steps to the club. He must explode somewhere and
with someone, and the young architect was the very man he wanted. Garry
had ridiculed his old-fashioned ideas and had advised him to let himself
go. Was the wiping out of Gilbert's fortune part of the System? he asked
himself.

As he hunted through the rooms, almost deserted at this hour, his eyes
searching for his friend, a new thought popped into his head, and with
such force that it bowled him over into a chair, where he sat staring
straight in front of him. Tonight, he suddenly remembered, was the
night of the dinner his uncle was to give to some business friends--"A
Gold-Mine Dinner," his aunt had called it. His cheeks flamed again when
he thought that these very men had helped in the Mukton swindle. To
interrupt them, though, at their feast--or even to mention the subject
to his uncle while the dinner was in progress--was, of course, out of
the question. He would stay where he was; dine alone, unless Garry came
in, and then when the last man had left his uncle's house he would have
it out with him.

Biffton was the only man who disturbed his solitude. Biffy was in full
evening dress--an enormous white carnation in his button-hole and a
crush hat under his arm. He was booked for a "Stag," he said with
a yawn, or he would stay and keep him company. Jack didn't want any
company--certainly not Biffy--most assuredly not any of the young
fellows who had asked him about Gilbert's failure. What he wanted was
to be left alone until eleven o'clock, during which time he would get
something to eat.

Dinner over, he buried himself in a chair in the library and let his
mind roam. Angry as he was, Ruth's image still haunted him. How pretty
she was--how gracefully she moved her arm as she lifted the cups;
and the way the hair waved about her temples; and the tones of her
voice--and dear Peter, so kind and thoughtful of him, so careful that he
should be introduced to this and that person; and Miss Felicia! What a
great lady she was; and yet he was not a bit afraid of her. What would
they all think of him when the facts of his uncle's crime came to their
ears, and they MUST come sooner