From the far end of the room came piano music; gentle, dreamy, broken

occasionally by some fine, thrilling chord. Dennison played well, but he

had the habit of all amateurs of idling, of starting something, and

running away into improvisations. Seated beside him on the bench was Jane,

her head inclined against his shoulder. Perhaps that was a good reason why

he began a composition and did not carry it through to its conclusion.

"That was a trick of his mother's," said Cleigh, still addressing the

fire. "All the fine things in him he got from her. I gave him his

shoulders, but I guess that's about all."

Mrs. Norman did not turn her head. She had already learned that she wasn't

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expected to reply unless Cleigh looked at her directly.

"There's a high wind outside. More rain, probably. But that's October in

these parts. You'll like it in Hawaii. Never any of this brand of weather.

I may be able to put the yacht into commission."

"The sea!" she said in a little frightened whisper.

* * * * *

"Doorbells!" said Dennison with gentle mockery. "Jane, you're always

starting up when you hear one. Still hanging on? It isn't Cunningham's

willingness to fulfill his promise; it's his ability I doubt. A thousand

and one things may upset his plans."

"I know. But, win or lose, he was to let me know."

"The poor devil! I never dared say so to Father, but when I learned that

Cunningham meant no harm to you I began to boost for him. I like to see a

man win against huge odds, and that's what he has been up against."

"Denny, I've never asked before; I've been a little afraid to, but did you

see Flint when the crew left?"

"I honestly didn't notice; I was so interested in the disreputable old

hooker that was to take them off."

She sighed. Fragments of that night were always recurring in her dreams.

The door opened and the ancient butler entered. His glance roved until it

caught the little tuft of iron-gray hair that protruded above the rim of

the chair by the fire. Noiselessly he crossed the room.

"Beg pardon, sir," he said, "but a van arrived a few minutes ago with a

number of packing cases. The men said they were for you, sir. The cases

are in the lower hall. Any orders, sir?"

Cleigh rose.

"Cases? Benson, did you say--cases?"

"Yes, sir. I fancy some paintings you've ordered, sir."




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