“Why where’s John?” he asked.
“He’s gone out some place for a few minutes. I don’t know where,” she said. “Wouldn’t you like to smoke?” She rose. “I’ll get some of John’s cigarettes.”
“No, thank you. I don’t smoke cigarettes. I’ll fill my pipe if you don’t mind.”
“I smoke cigarettes sometimes, when I’m quite alone,” she confided, laughing slightly.
“Yes?”
“I suppose you don’t approve of ladies smoking, do you?” she insisted.
“If they want to.”
“Does Lucy smoke?”
“No.”
Mrs. Merwent laughed again.
“I didn’t know,” she declared.
Jim gazed at her steadily. The front door clicked and she started.
“Was that John?” she asked.
Jim rose and glanced through the window.
“No,” he responded. “It was Dimmie. He threw his ball into the street. Did you want anything, Mrs. Merwent?”
“Oh, no,” she assured him. “I just wondered. He said he was coming right back. Well, we don’t need a chaperone, do we?”
“Hardly,” replied Jim.
Mrs. Merwent dropped a marquise ring she had been pulling on and off her finger. Jim picked it up and handed it to her.
“Thank you. I shouldn’t be wearing rings with this old gown. I just put it on from force of habit.”
“Which?” asked Jim, smiling.
“The ring, of course, you sarcastic thing,” she retorted, striking his knee with the lace handkerchief in her hand.
“The dress is charming, Mrs. Merwent.”
“Oh, thank you. You’re going to be nice after all. Well, I was quite prepared to find you so. Lucy and John can’t say enough good things about you.”
“I’m much obliged to them,” he remarked, smiling again. “I can say the same of them.”
“How lovely! I do think real friendship is the grandest thing—and so rare.”
“No doubt about that, Mrs. Merwent.” Jim smiled once more.
“Now I believe you’re making fun of me, Mr. Sprague.”
“I can assure you I’m not, Mrs. Merwent.”
“I envy them, you know. I’ve been so lonely since my—trouble.”
“I can quite imagine,” said Jim sympathetically. “But now you are with your children and—”
“Yes,” she interrupted hastily, “and isn’t John just the dearest fellow! I do so regret our misunderstanding. Though I was not to blame for it,” she added.
“John’s a good sort,” Jim agreed.
“And Lucy,” Mrs. Merwent now smiled. “You haven’t said anything about Lucy.”
“We weren’t talking about her.”
“Well, she’s a dear girl, although—why I’ve burnt my slipper!” she broke off. “Do you know, Mr. Sprague, that I have the hardest time to get shoes narrow enough. It seems that most women, especially here in the North, have big feet. Lucy takes after her father. He was a Northern man.”
Jim seemed amused, and Mrs. Merwent concluded hastily.
“But here I am chattering on about me,” she said, “and you haven’t told me anything about yourself.”
“There isn’t much to tell, Mrs. Merwent.”
“Well, if you could hear Lucy and John talk about you you wouldn’t be so modest.”
“Neither of them has much critical acumen in matters of friendship.”
“But you are their only intimate friend.”
Jim laughed.
“That’s just it,” he asserted.
“You cynical thing!” she reproved banteringly. “I know you men with no illusions. I declare I’m afraid of you.”
“Not dangerous—believe me, Mrs. Merwent.”
“No. You despise us women too much to take us seriously.”
“Some of the biggest individuals I have met have been women,” Jim answered gravely.
“Lucy, for instance.”
“Yes, Lucy,” agreed Jim.
“Well, I’m not much like her. Do you think so?”
“Our acquaintance is pretty brief to justify a fundamental judgment of that sort.”
“Oh, I’m not at all intellectual or deep. I can’t talk about Bergson and books like Jean Christophe that Lucy reads. I’m afraid you won’t like poor little me much.”
“There are lots of people I don’t like who talk about philosophy and musical novels.” His tone was pleasant.
“Well, I have a feeling already that you don’t like me very well.”
“I don’t think I could help liking Lucy’s mother,” Jim answered without conviction.
“Thanks! I don’t know that I care to be liked because I’m Lucy’s mother,” she replied, laughing nervously. “Your liking seems to be confined to Lucy and things belonging to her. That’s not very complimentary to the rest of us.”
Jim, who had been staring at the empty grate, glanced up and met Mrs. Merwent’s eyes. Her gaze dropped.
“Yes, I do like Lucy, and the people she likes,” he acknowledged frankly, “and if anybody liked me on the same recommendation I should feel honored. She is a person any man or woman must feel it a great privilege to know.”
Mrs. Merwent arched her brows.
“Of course I think just as you do about Lucy, Mr. Sprague, but if I were John I might” (she smiled again) “object the tiniest bit to your—enthusiasm.”
“Object?” Jim looked blank.
“Maybe that is the wrong word.” Nannie’s smile grew more meaning. “It isn’t every man who enjoys having his wife admired too much.”
“If John objects he only needs to say so. I don’t think you quite understand the atmosphere of this household yet, Mrs. Merwent.”
“This household?”
“Your daughter then.”
“Well, I certainly think I ought to know her.”
“You ought, but the most charitable thing is to believe you don’t.” There was decided asperity in Jim’s tone.
Mrs. Merwent’s manner changed. She rose haughtily.
“What do you mean by that, Mr. Sprague!” she exclaimed.
Jim rose also, and the two scrutinized each other in silence for a moment.
“No offense intended,” he protested, turning and knocking his pipe out on the mantel shelf.
Nannie was still injured.
“I don’t see how such innocent remarks can be so misinterpreted,” she insisted, crumpling her handkerchief.
Jim did not answer at once. When he spoke his manner was authoritative.
“Don’t you think it would be wise to drop this topic, Mrs. Merwent?”
She preserved her air of dignity, but her uneasiness was obvious.
“I don’t understand you, Mr. Sprague. I certainly will not be stopped from doing my duty in protecting Lucy no matter if you do misunderstand me.”
“Protecting Lucy?” Jim’s eyes hardened.
Mrs. Merwent twisted her handkerchief nervously.
“Do you think Lucy needs to be protected from me, Mrs. Merwent?” he went on inexorably.
Lucy’s voice was heard calling Dimmie. Nannie backed toward the hallway.
Jim heard Lucy too.
“I think Lucy needs protecting from her own ignorance and inexperience,” explained
