And it was a young girl harassed with perplexities like these, whom he had permitted in his stead to beard the lioness.  Well, if there was anything in the world, any conceivable thing, that he could do to repair the consequences of his fault, he would do it.  If that lovers’ misunderstanding with Graham could, after all, be cleared away it would be the happy, the completely desirable solution of the problem.  But if it could not ...  A day-dream that it was he who stood in Graham Stannard’s shoes, offering her harbor and rest and a life-long loyalty, formed the bridge over which he finally fell asleep.

She called him to the telephone the next morning while he was at breakfast; just to tell him she was in town, she said, and to ask him if he had heard anything from his sister in Omaha as to whether she wanted a nursery governess.  He had to admit, of course, that he had not even written to her, and felt guiltier and more miserable than ever.

“Do write to-day, though, won’t you?” she urged.  “And give me the best character you can.  Because I am going to get some sort of job just as soon as possible.”

In reply to the inarticulate noise of protest he made at this she went on, “Our family has simply exploded.  I fled for my life last night.  So you see I’m really in earnest about going to work now.”

“I want to come and see you at once,” he said.  “Where are you?”

“At home,” she answered, “but I’m going out this minute for the day.  If you’d like a picnic tea here at half past five, though, come and I’ll tell you what I’ve been doing.”

He asked if this meant that she was staying all by herself in the Dearborn Avenue house without even a servant, and at his lively horror over this she laughed with an amusement which sounded genuine enough to reassure him somewhat.  She ended the conversation by telling him that she had left her father with the impression that she was going straight to Hickory Hill.  She was writing Aunt Lucile a note saying she meant to stay in town for a few days.  “But if you get any frantic telephone calls in the meantime, tell them I’m all right.”

He wondered a good deal, as his hours marched past in their accustomed uneventful manner, what she could be doing with hers.  It was an odd locution for her to have employed that she was “going out for the day.”  He couldn’t square it with any sort of social activity.  The thing that kept plaguing his mind despite his impatient attempts to dismiss it as nonsense, was the possibility that she was actually looking for that job she’d talked about.  Answering advertisements!

Toward four, when he had stopped trying to do anything but wait for his appointment with her, Rush and Graham came in, precipitately, and asked for a private talk with him.  He took them into his inner office, relieved a little at the arrival of reenforcements but disappointed too.

“If you’re anxious about Mary,” he began by saying, “I can assure you that she is all right.  She’s at the Dearborn Avenue house, or was last night and will be again later this afternoon.  I talked to her on the phone this morning.”