CHAPTER II

  A CHAPTER DEPICTING A RATHER GARRULOUS REUNION

  The second day we ran out of the storm. I remember on that day that Iwore a rather doggy suit of gray--a trifle too doggy for a man of myyears. In my button-hole reposed a white carnation, and as I strolledinto the smoking-room I was humming under my breath an air from "MissHelyet"--a thing I had not thought of in twenty years.

  "Well, upon my word!" exclaimed a man who looked up from his novel as Ientered the doorway. "Gad! You haven't changed in twenty years!--exceptthat your moustache is----"

  "Sure! And my temples, Williams! Besides, I have two grown-up daughtersaboard! How are you, anyway, you Latin Quarter come-back?"

  We settled ourselves, hands still warmly clasped.

  "You're not going back to Paris?" I asked.

  "Why, man, I live there."

  "By George, so you do! I forgot."

  There was a silence--that smiling, retrospective silence which endsinevitably in a sigh not entirely painful.

  "Are any of the old men left there?" I asked.

  "Some."

  "I--I suppose the city has changed a lot. Men who've been over since,say so."

  "It hasn't changed, radically."

  "Hasn't it, Williams?" I asked wistfully.

  "No. The old cafe is exactly the same. The Luxembourg Quarter will seemfamiliar to you----"

  "I'm not going there," I said hastily.

  He smiled; I could see him doing it, askance. But my features remaineddignified and my attitude detached.

  "I wonder," I began carelessly, "whether----"

  "She got married," he said casually; "I'm glad. She was a sweet littlething."

  "She was exceedingly charming," I said, selecting a cigar. "And theother?"

  "Which?"

  "I forget her name."

  "Oh, you mean Delancy's?"

  "Yes."

  "I don't know whatever became of her," he said.

  "Whatever became of Delancy?"

  "Oh, he did what we all usually do--he came back, married, and spent thebetter part of his life in trying to keep his daughter from marryingthat young Harroll."

  "Sir Peter's son?"

  "Yes. I was a guest at the Delancy's at the time, and I nearly died.Harroll confided in me, Catharine Delancy confided in me, John Delancytold me his woes. It's an amusing story. Do you want to hear it?"

  "Go ahead," I said. "My sympathies are already with Delancy. I've a pairof daughters myself, and I'm trying to shoo away every sort of man andkeep 'em for myself a little longer."

  Williams smiled:

  "Well, you listen to what those two did to John Delancy. It was some."

  I lit my cigar; he lit his; and I settled back, looking at himattentively as he began with a wave of his gloved hand, a story ofpeculiar interest to a man with two unusually attractive daughters:

  * * * * *

  Now, although Harroll had been refused a dozen times--not by MissDelancy, but by her father--the young man's naturally optimistic spiritssuffered only temporary depression; and a few evenings later he askedfor her again, making it a bakers' dozen--an uncanny record.

  "No," said Mr. Delancy.

  "Won't you let me have her when I become tenth vice-president of theHalf-Moon Title Guarantee and Trust----"

  "No, I won't."

  "When will you let me try for her?"

  There was no reply.

  "Well, sir," said the young man cheerfully, "there must be some way, ofcourse."

  "Really, Jim, I don't see what way," said Mr. Delancy, without emotion."I don't want you for a son-in-law, and I'm not going to have you.That's one of the reasons I allow you the run of the house. My daughtersees too much of you to care for you. It's a theory of my own, and agood one, too."

  "Why don't you want me for a son-in-law?" asked the young man, for thehundredth time.

  "Can you give me one single reason why I should want you?" asked Mr.Delancy wearily.

  Harroll stood buried in meditation for a few moments. "No," he said, "Ican't recall any important reasons at the moment."

  "I can supply you with one--your sense of honor--but it doesn't count inthis case, because you wouldn't be in my house if you didn't have any."

  Harroll looked at the fire.

  "I've told you a hundred times that when my little girl marries, shemarries one of her own kind. I don't like Englishmen. And that is allthere is to it, Jim."

  "Don't you like me?"

  "I'm not infatuated with you."

  "Well," said Harroll, slowly pacing the rug in front of the fire, "it'scurious, isn't it?--but, do you know, I think that I am going to marryCatharine one of these days?"

  "Oh, I think not," replied Mr. Delancy amiably. "And perhaps this is agood opportunity to say good-by for a while. You know we go to PalmBeach to-morrow?"

  "Catharine told me," said the young man, placidly. "So I've wired forquarters at The Breakers--for two weeks."

  The two men smiled at one another.

  "You take your vacation late," said Mr. Delancy.

  "Not too late, I trust."

  "You think you can afford Palm Beach, Jim?"

  "No; but I'm going."

  Mr. Delancy rose and stood thoughtfully twirling his monocle by thestring. Then he threw away his cigar, concealed a yawn, and glancedgravely at the clock on the mantel.

  "May I go in and say good-night to Catharine, sir?" asked young Harroll.

  Mr. Delancy looked bored, but nodded civilly enough.

  "And, Jim," he drawled, as the young man started toward thedrawing-room, "I wouldn't go to Palm Beach if I were you."

  "Yes, you would, sir--if you were I."

  "Young man," said Mr. Delancy, mildly, "I'm damned if I have you for ason-in-law! Good-night."

  They shook hands. Harroll walked into the drawing-room and found itempty. The music-room, however, was lighted, and Catharine Delancy sattucked up in a deep window-seat, studying a map of southern Florida andfeeding bonbons to an enormous white Persian cat.

  "Jim," she said, raising her dark eyes as he sauntered up, "you andfather have lately fallen into the disreputable habit of sitting behindclosed doors and gossiping. You have done it thirteen times in threemonths. Don't be such pigs; scandal, like other pleasures, was meant tobe shared."

  At a gesture of invitation he seated himself beside her and lifted thePersian pussy to his lap.

  "Well," she inquired, "are you really going with us?"

  "I can't go when you do, but I'm going to The Breakers for a week ortwo--solely to keep an eye on your behavior."

  "That is jolly!" she said, flushing with pleasure. "Was father pleasedwhen you told him?"

  "He didn't say he was pleased."

  "He is always reticent," she said, quickly. "But won't it be too jollyfor words! We'll travel miles and miles together in bicycle-chairs, andwe'll yacht and bathe and ride and golf, and catch amber-jack andsharks, and--you'll persuade father to let me gamble just once at theclub--won't you?"

  "Not much! Where did you hear that sort of talk, Catharine?"

  "Don't tweak Omar's tail and I'll tell you--there! you've done it again,and I won't tell you."

  He fell to stroking the cat's fur, gazing the while into space with anabsent eye that piqued her curiosity. For a year now he had acquiredthat trick of suddenly detaching himself from earth and gazingspeculatively toward heaven, lost in a revery far from flattering to theignored onlooker. And now he was doing it again under her very nose.What was he thinking about? He seemed, all at once, a thousand milesremoved from her. Where were his thoughts?

  Touched in her _amour propre_, she quietly resumed the map of southernFlorida; but even the rustle of the paper did not disturb hisself-centred and provoking meditation.

  She looked at him, looked at the map, considered him again, and finallywatched him.

  Suddenly, for the first time in her life, she thought him dangerouslyattractive. Surprised and interested, she
regarded him in this newlight, impersonally for the moment. So far away had he apparentlydrifted in his meditation that it seemed to her as though she wereobserving a stranger--a most interesting and most unusual young man.

  He turned and looked her straight in the eyes.

  Twenty-two, and her first season half over, and to be caught blushinglike a school-girl!

  There was no constraint; her self-possession cooled her cheeks--and hewas not looking at her, after all: he was looking through her, atsomething his fancy focused far, far beyond her.

  Never had she thought any man half as attractive as this old friend in anew light--this handsome, well-built, careless young fellow absorbed inthoughts which excluded her. No doubt he was so habituated to herself inall her moods that nothing except the friendliest indifference couldever----

  To her consternation another tint of warm color slowly spread over neckand cheek. He rose at the same moment, dropped the cat back among thecushions, and smiling down at her, held out his hand. She took it, methis eyes with an effort; but what message she divined in them Heavenalone knows, for all at once her heart stood still and a strange thrillleft her fingers nerveless in his hand.

  He was saying slowly, "Then I shall see you at Palm Beach next week?"

  "Yes.... You will come, won't you?"

  "Yes, I will come."

  "But if you--change your mind?"

  "I never change. May I write you?"

  "Good-night.... You may write me if you wish."

  "I will write, every day--if you don't mind."

  "No--I don't mind," she said thoughtfully.

  She withdrew her hand and stood perfectly still as he left the room. Sheheard a servant open the door, she heard Harroll's quick step echo onthe stoop, then the door closed.

  A second later Mr. Delancy in the library was aroused from complacentmeditation by the swish of a silken skirt, and glancing up, beheld atall, prettily formed girl looking at him with a sober and rathercolorless face.

  "Father," she said, "I'm in love with Jim Harroll!"

  Mr. Delancy groped for his monocle, screwed it into his left eye, andexamined his daughter.

  "It's true, and I thought I'd better tell you," she said.

  "Yes," he agreed, "it's as well to let me know. Ah--er--when and how didit occur?"

  "I don't know, father. I was feeding Omar bonbons and looking over themap of South Florida, and thinking about nothing in particular, when Jimcame in. He said he was going to Palm Beach, and I said, 'How jolly!'and he sat down and picked up Omar, and--I don't know how it was, but Ibegan to think him very attractive, and the first thing Iknew--it--happened!"

  "Oh! So that's the way it happened?"

  "I think it was, father."

  "No doubt you'll outgrow it."

  "Do you think so?"

  "I haven't a doubt of it, little daughter."

  "I have."

  Mr. Delancy dropped his monocle and looked at the fire. The fire was allright.

  "Do you--do you suppose that Jim is--does--thinks--knows----"

  "I never speculate on what Jim is, does, thinks, or knows," said herfather, thoughtfully, stirring the embers and spoiling a perfectly goodfire. When he looked up again she had gone.

  "One theory smashed!" observed Mr. Delancy. "I'll try another, withseparation as the main ingredient."

  He sat down before the fire and lighted a fresh cigar, which wasn't goodfor him.

  "Must avoid making a martyr of Jim or there will be trouble," he mused."There remains another way--make a martyr of myself."

  He sat swinging his monocle around his forefinger, gazing vacantly atthe pattern the shadows cast across the hearth.

  "Avalon!" he said, abruptly. "Avalon! The 'back-to-nature' business,'grass-cure' and all. It can't harm either Catharine or me, I fancy--orany other pair of donkeys!"