all this about the family black
sheep--I feel that now I must let you escape."

"Oh, no--not at all!" I protested hastily and pulling back. Never would
do to let him feel that way, you know! "Really, 'pon honor now, thing I
want to do is just stay here and talk to you about Frances."

"Oh, _damn_ Fran--h'm--I mean Francis will keep!" He caught himself
hastily before the stare of my glass, fumbling with the papers to cover
his confusion. Then he clapped me on the shoulder, pressing me again
toward the door. "You just go ahead and do whatever you can with
Francis, yourself--you are my only hope! Or wait, and I'll prepare the
way for you to-night--that's it; that's best!"--and he went to nodding.
Then he halted my progress and eyed me intently. "There's another
thing:"--his voice dropped--"I think it's just as well Jack shouldn't
know of your intentions about Francis; he would never approve--oh,
_never_!"

He pursed his lips to just a thin curve as he shook his head positively.
His eyes bored at me over his glasses. I moistened my lips.

"I know _he_ feels you have already concerned yourself enough about
Francis," he said deliberately. "The other night at your rooms--er,
_you_ know! Jack is so particular in those little things. Ah, there's a
model for you!"

He looked upward and wagged his head as he laid his hand upon the
door-knob. By Jove, how I wished he would open it, for the room was
getting devilish warm!

"And as for things I deplore in Francis--oh, no, never any of that with
Jack!"--he stiffened proudly--"he may, as I have said, imbibe a little
too much, now and then; but when it comes to _scandal_--well, I have yet
to hear the slightest breath--"

A sharp knock cut in abruptly.

"Come in!" And he swung the door open.

CHAPTER XXVI

FLORA

In the doorway stood the butler, looking rather pale. With him was a
woman--one of the angular sort, you know, and whom I judged to be the
housekeeper.

_She_ wasn't pale! No, by Jove, she was fiery red, even to her hair; and
red, too, the anvil sparks that were snapping from her eyes. She marched
right in, followed by Wilkes, who carefully closed the door--then stood
discreetly aloof. Pantingly, she faced the judge, who was staring at her
in amazement.

"Why, Miss Warfield," he began, "what--"

"Judge Billings!" she exploded. And, by Jove, it was like the blast from
a mighty bellows! "It's about Mr. Jack!"

The judge's face flushed apprehensively.