“Why, it wasn’t much,” he said; “just that nothing could have happened to you; that you wouldn’t ‘fall off anything and break.’  What you said about plaster of Paris made me think of it.  He was only trying to get Aunt Lucile quieted down.”

“While he had Paula on his mind, he didn’t want to be bothered about me.  That’s natural enough, of course.”  Her dry brittle tone was anything but reassuring.  Still without looking at her, he hurried on.

“Well, it is natural that he should be worried about Paula.  I know how I’d feel about a thing like that.  It was rather weird while we waited after Aunt Lucile went up to bed for those two to come down.  Old Nat was fussing around the drawing-room, shutting up and putting things to rights.  Dad sent him to bed, too, told him we’d do the locking up ourselves.  I got the idea that he was expecting Paula to come sailing down, with March, you know, and perhaps didn’t want any one around.  So I made a bluff of going to bed myself.  But he told me to stick; said we’d settle down and have a smoke presently.  I don’t know how long it was before we heard LaChaise and March coming but it seemed a deuce of a while.

“Dad was right on the job then, calm as a May morning.  He introduced March and me and said something polite about his music, never a word about his having been hiding all the evening.

“Then LaChaise spoke to dad in French.  Said there was some business he wanted to talk with him about and that he’d like an appointment.  I wasn’t sure that dad quite got him so I crashed in and interpreted.

“Dad reached out and took hold of me, as if he was sort of glad that I was there, and told me to tell Mr. LaChaise that we had plenty of time right now, and if there was anything to discuss the sooner we got at it, the better.

“I handed that on in French—­I tried not to lose any of the kick out of it—­and while I was doing that March made a move to go.

“Dad told him not to.  I wish you could have been there.  I remember he said after inviting him to stay, ’I imagine you are as much concerned in this as any one.’  It didn’t faze March though.  He said that he didn’t believe that what Mr. LaChaise had to say concerned him.  Then he made a stiff little bow for good night and went off down the hall to get his hat.  Oh, that wasn’t like a doughboy, I’ll admit.  I went to the door with him and we made a little conversation there for a minute or two just to—­take off the edge.  That’s when I found out where he’d been.

“Father had taken LaChaise into the drawing-room when I got back but I don’t believe either of them had said three words.  They were waiting for me.  Dad led off by asking what he thought of March, and LaChaise told him, though you could see that wasn’t what was on his mind.  He said March had a very strong and original talent and that he believed he had operas in him.  There was one about finished that he was going to look at to-morrow.  Then he pulled up short and said it was Paula he wanted to talk about.