Thus, in her decisive way, did Mrs. Porter spread light and sweetness
with both hands, achieving the bodily salvation of George while, at the
same time, furthering the loves of Ruth and Kirk by leaving them alone
together to make each other's better acquaintance in the romantic
dimness of the studio.
* * * * *
Percy proceeded down-town, pondering. His first impulse, I regret to
say, was to send Ruth's father an anonymous letter. This plan he
abandoned from motives of fear rather than of self-respect. Anonymous
letters are too frequently traced to their writers, and the prospect of
facing Kirk in such an event did not appeal to him.
As he could think of no other way of effecting his object, he had begun
to taste the bitterness of futile effort, when fortune, always his
friend, put him in a position to do what he wanted in the easiest
possible way with the minimum of unpleasantness.
Bailey Bannister, that strong, keen Napoleon of finance, was not above
a little relaxation of an evening when his father happened to be out of
town. That giant mind, weary with the strain of business, needed
refreshment.
And so, at eleven thirty that night, his father being in Albany, and
not expected home till next day, Bailey might have been observed,
beautifully arrayed and discreetly jovial, partaking of lobster at one
of those Broadway palaces where this fish is in brisk demand. He was in
company with his rabbit-faced friend, Clarence Grayling, and two
members of the chorus of a neighbouring musical comedy.
One of the two, with whom Clarence was conversing in a lively manner
that showed his heart had not been irreparably broken as the result of
his recent interview with Ruth, we may dismiss. Like Clarence, she is
of no importance to the story. The other, who, not finding Bailey's
measured remarks very gripping, was allowing her gaze to wander idly
around the room, has this claim to a place in the scheme of things,
that she had a wordless part in the comedy in which Percy Shanklyn had
appeared as the English dude and was on terms of friendship with him.
Consequently, seeing him enter the room, as he did at that moment, she
signalled him to approach.
'It's a little feller who was with me in 'The Man from Out West',' she
explained to Bailey as Percy made his way toward them. At which
Bailey's prim mouth closed with an air of disapproval.
The feminine element of the stage he found congenial to his business-
harassed brain, but with the 'little fellers' who helped them to keep
the national drama sizzling he felt less in sympathy; and he resented
extremely his companion's tactlessness in inciting this infernal mummer
to intrude upon his privacy.
He prepared to be cold and distant with Percy. And when Bailey, never a
ray of sunshine, deliberately tried to be chilly, those with him at the
time generally had the sensation that winter was once more in their
midst.
Percy, meanwhile, threaded his way among the tables, little knowing
that fate had already solved the problem which had worried him the
greater part of the day.
