looked at his watch, paused
a moment in deep thought, stopping his car dead in the middle of the
street and was almost run over from behind by a nervous, excitable
"flivver." The driver waved at him wildly, shouting obscenities as he
swerved past and went careening down the street.

He would not have time to eat lunch. There was so much to do.
Inspired, he stopped at a corner drug store and gulped down a malted
milk. Then with enforced calm, and with a glance at the clock, he
brushed down his clothes, looked at himself in the glass above the
counter, and walked with much careless aplomb out to the car. He had
timed it to a nicety.

When he got out of the car in front of the Macomber dwelling he had
another struggle to keep from appearing self-conscious. As he
approached the house a rosy little vision of the afternoon in prospect
flitted into his mind. He glanced patronizingly at the sky. Never had
there been serener blue. Descending a notch, he caught a surreptitious
glimpse at upstairs windows. The one above the front door was chastely
shrouded by inside shutters. But through a slight gap and beneath a
raised sash he saw a flutter of white and turned away his eyes. It
was _her_ room. He pulled the old bell knob and stood thoughtfully
humming to himself on the steps.

No one came. Slightly jarred, he realized it and pulled the bell
again. He stopped humming. Quite a while he waited, in growing
irritation. The bell was probably broken. After many minutes--it may
have been two--he stepped to the edge of the porch and speculated on
going around to the back, when the door flew suddenly open and Mrs.
Macomber stood peering at him through the screen.

He jerked off his hat. "How do you do?" and gave her a radiant smile.

Mrs. Macomber scowled. She was an impregnable griffin even in still
life. She had on an untidy apron and her hair was squeezed back from
her yellow, greasy face.

"Well?" she said.

"I've--er--Miss Myrtle?" sparkled Joe, conquering the vapours.

"Not in," said Mrs. Macomber shortly.

Joe fell back a step. The shadows swept down upon him. For a moment he
was at a loss for words. "But--Mrs. Macomber--we were going to Stony
Point this afternoon!" He was aghast, and he bared his feelings to the
world before he sank in the engulfing sea of negation. "Are you sure?"

Mrs. Macomber smiled grimly. "My eyes haven't gone back on me
entirely, I reckon."

Joe stepped up to the level of the porch which stood