Nannie looked up and met her daughter’s eyes uncomfortably.
“Where are you going?” she asked finally, pulling at the handkerchief in her lap with uncertain fingers.
“I’m going to see Jim.”
“Lucy!” gasped Mrs. Merwent as the front door closed after her daughter.
Jim was alone and hard at work when Lucy reached the office. The windows were open and a breeze fluttered the papers on his desk.
“Sit down,” he invited, leaning back in his chair and reaching for his pipe. “How are you all getting along at your house? Where’s the kid?”
“Dimmie’s at kindergarten.”
“Didn’t know he’d started to go,” said Jim.
“Lots of things have happened since you were out,” remarked Lucy quietly.
“Yes?” Jim lighted his pipe.
Lucy did not say more and Jim smoked a moment in silence.
“What is it, Lucy? Are you worried about something?” he inquired at last, blowing out a cloud of smoke.
Lucy nodded her head without speaking.
“Well, women always worry about one of two things, money, or another woman,” pursued Jim in a bantering tone. “Which is it?”
“Both,” said Lucy seriously.
Jim looked grave, and when he spoke again it was with a different manner.
“Can I help, Lucy?”
“I think you can, Jim. That’s why I’ve come.”
He waited for her to go on.
“John is spending too much, Jim, and Mamma encourages him in it,” Lucy began, rather suddenly, “and things are—are so I can’t do anything. I thought maybe if you—suggested to John—it might—” Lucy’s voice trailed off in embarrassment, and she opened and shut her purse nervously.
“I will,” Jim promised earnestly. “You can depend on me, Lucy.”
“I know I can, Jim.”
“And, Lucy—”
“Yes?”
“About the money. If your expenses have swamped you—you know I have something laid up. My living costs me very little, and you are awfully welcome to what I have.”
“Thank you, Jim, but you know I couldn’t take any money. Besides, we don’t need it yet, but I am frightened at the amount we are spending.”
“I didn’t mean—I mean you could pay it back if you wanted to.” Jim was very red.
“I understand, Jim, but it isn’t necessary.”
“I don’t see what’s gotten into John!” he ejaculated with feeling.
“It isn’t John,” said Lucy, “it’s Mamma.”
“Well, he ought to know—” Jim stopped speaking and glanced at Lucy.
“Yes, Jim, but so had she.”
Jim thought.
“Do you know yet if she’s going to stay—permanently?” he inquired after a pause.
“I don’t know, Jim. I shouldn’t be surprised. She talks sometimes as though she were eventually going to marry a Professor Walsh, back in Russellville. But I don’t know.”
Jim smoked hard for a while. When he spoke again his voice was low.
“Lucy, you know I would do anything in the world for you,” he said. “Anything,” he repeated vehemently.
“Yes, Jim. You are the best friend that ever was.” Lucy smiled at him frankly. “But I don’t see just how you can help in anything else.”
“I’d like to help,” he offered, almost wistfully.
“You have,” she declared, still smiling. “I feel a lot better already.”
“Do you, Lucy?” he asked eagerly. “Do I—do you—am I—” he stammered, growing red again.
“Why, of course you do,” she responded heartily and naturally. “It always does me good to talk to you.” Then she added rather plaintively, “Oh, Jim, why can’t people be honest with themselves and with others?”
“I’m damned if I know!” he declared savagely, not looking at her.
“I’m sure I don’t either,” she said, regarding him affectionately. “Well, goodbye. I’m going home.” She rose and shook hands.
“Goodbye, Lucy. You can depend on me.” Jim held her hand.
“Thank you, Jim,” she answered, pressing his hand.
And she was gone.
Mrs. Merwent was at the piano, practising, when Lucy reached home.
“Well, did you see Mr. Sprague?” Nannie asked sarcastically, going into the hall when she heard the front door open.
“Yes,” returned Lucy calmly.
“You ought to be careful, Lucy,” reminded Nannie. “Of course I wouldn’t say anything to John, but others might.”
“You can say anything you like to him,” retorted Lucy in a disgusted tone. “I’m going to tell him myself.”
That night John returned late. Nannie, Lucy, and Dimmie had finished their evening meal, and Lucy had tucked Dimmie safely into bed, when the front door clicked and a cheerful voice was heard in the hall.
“Now, Lucy, your croaking was all for nothing,” were John’s first words. “Look there!” he commanded, rushing into the living room and throwing a pile of bills on the table, his manner almost hilarious.
“How nice!” murmured Nannie.
“Where did that come from?” Lucy inquired quickly.
“Why, Jim put over a deal today while I was away, and this is my share of the lucre,” and John put his hands in his pockets and began to whistle.
“What kind of a deal was it?” persisted Lucy.
“Oh, some private scheme of his. Sold building materials or something on commission,” answered John.
Lucy looked nonplussed.
“Didn’t Mr. Sprague say anything to you about it?” Nannie inquired of Lucy in an innocent voice.
“Why, was Jim out here today?” asked John in surprise.
“No. I was at the office,” Lucy explained without hesitation.
“Why, he didn’t tell me,” said John, as though mystified. Then, apologetically, “I was only there a minute, Lucy. Went to Benton Harbor on business. I forgot to say anything about going last night.”
“Your dinner’s getting cold,” was all Lucy’s reply.
As John seated himself at the table a faint cry was heard from the upper floor and Lucy, exclaiming, “That’s Dimmie!” left the room quickly.
“John, I wish you would ask Mr. Sprague out again,” requested Nannie, when she thought her daughter was safely upstairs.
John looked teasingly at her.
“What’s the matter? Are you getting lonesome, or just yearning for more of Jim’s society?”
“Will you ask him out?” she repeated.
“Yes. Of course I will. Let’s see. Today is Tuesday. I’ll bring him out Thursday night. He’s going to work late tomorrow, I heard him say.”
“Now, don’t forget,” warned Nannie.
XX
Mrs. Merwent came downstairs with a headache, but after her insistent complaints elicited some sympathetic remarks from Lucy, she settled herself resignedly to mend a small hole in one of the grey silk stockings which she had worn to
