Jason never sought the Golden Fleece with more unwearying perseverance
than John displayed in the pursuit of the lost article which Colette
refused to describe. His calls of inquiry didn't mean merely putting the
question politely and taking his departure after receiving an answer. It
meant, in the case of Mrs. Hudgers, a martyr's test of patience in
listening to the devious and manifold routes taken by her rheumatic
pains; a rehearsal of the late lamented Hallie's idiosyncracies; the
details of his last illness; his death; and his wearing of the surplice
at the obsequies.
Throughout her harangue he preached patience unto himself and remembered
that she was an old woman, desolate in her "lone lornness," so he
counselled not, neither did he pray, but comforted her with the
gentleness of voice and speech that won him a fond place in her memory
for all time.
"No," she assured him decisively, as in departing he reminded her of his
original question, "I didn't go fer to look in no pockit. I didn't
suppose them things had pockits."
Then the scene shifted to Derry Phillips's studio, and this visit was
fraught with more difficulties, for there was the case of Amarilly which
must be approached delicately and with subtlety.
After stating his errand concisely and receiving assurance that the
pocket had not been examined, but that the model should be interviewed
by him, John still lingered.
"It's very kind in you to give employment to Amarilly, Mr. Phillips."
Derry shook his head.
"I am the one to be congratulated, Mr. Meredith. I really feel
apologetic to Amarilly for accepting her services. They are so
conscientiously and faithfully rendered that I feel she should be given
a higher scope of work than she can find here. She is an honest, amusing
little soul, and if by giving her employment I can encourage her desire
to be industrious and earn something, I am very glad of the opportunity
to do so."
This was a long and serious observation for the gay-hearted Derry to
make, but he shrewdly fathomed the pastoral duty underlying the
seemingly casual remark.
John's keen perception recognized the sincerity in the ring of the
pleasant young voice, and he was quite won by the boyish directness. An
instinctive confidence moved him to extend the right hand of trust and
fellowship.
"You have been instructive as well as benevolent," he remarked
smilingly. "Two of Amarilly's errors of speech have been eradicated."
The young Artist flushed in slight confusion, and then with a half-
embarrassed laugh, he replied lightly: "Amarilly gave full measure of
correction in return."