“Good-night—­and, thank you both,” he said.

* * * * *

XVII

Spring had come.  The silvery air was soft with promises of leaf and bud.  Invitation to Festival and Adventure was in the gold-flecked sunlight.  Nature stood on tiptoe, ready for carnival, waiting for the opening measures of the ecstatic music of life’s renewal.

The remote stillness of the great library had given place to the faint sounds of the vernal world.  A robin preened himself at an open casement, cast a calculating eye at the priceless art treasures of the place, scorned them as useless for his needs, and fluttered away to an antique marble bench in the walled garden, wherefrom he might watch for worms, or hop to the Greek sarcophagus and take a bath in accumulated rainwater.

Marcus Gard, outwardly his determined, unbending self again, sat before his laden table, slave as ever to his tasks.  Nine strokes chimed from the Gothic clock in the hall; already his busy day had begun.

Denning entered unannounced, as was his special privilege, and stood for a moment in silence, looking at his friend.  Gard acknowledged his presence with a cordial nod, and continued to glance over and sign the typewritten notes before him.  At last he put down his pen and settled back in his chair.

“Well, old friend, how goes it?” he inquired, smiling.

Denning nodded.  “Fine, thank you.  I thought I’d find you here.  I was in consultation with Langley last night, and we have decided we are in a position now to go ahead as we first planned over a year ago.  The opposition in Washington has been deflected.  Besides, Langley dug up a point of law.”

Gard rose and crossed to Denning.  His manner was quietly conversational, and he twirled his pince-nez absently.

“My dear man,” he said slowly, “you will have to adjust yourself to a shock.  We will stick to the understanding as expressed in our interviews of last February, whether Mr. Langley has dug up a point of law or not.  In short, Denning, we are not in future doing business in the old way.”

“But you don’t understand,” gasped the other.  “Langley says that it lets us completely out.  They can’t attack us under that ruling—­can’t you see?”

“Quite so—­yes.  I can imagine the situation perfectly.  But we entered into certain obligations—­understandings, if you will—­and we are going to live up to them, whether we could climb out of them or not.”

Denning sat down heavily.

“Well, I’ll be—­Why, it’s no different from our position in the river franchise matter, not in the least—­and we did pretty well with that, as you know.”

Gard nodded.  “Yes, we are practically in the same position, as you say.  The position is the same—­but we are different.  I suppose you’ve heard a number of adages concerning the irresponsibility of corporations?  Well, we are going to change all that.  I fancy you have already noticed a different method in our mercantile madness, and you will notice it still more in the future.”