Jasper Penny, revolving the complications of his position, made his way directly over the uneven sidewalk of Spruce Street to Fourth; there, passing the high, narrow residences of Society Hill, he proceeded to Stephen’s office, beyond Chestnut.  It was in a square brick edifice of an earlier period, with a broad marble step and door and wide windows coped in scoured white stone.  The lawyer’s private chamber was bare, with snowy panelling and mahogany, the high sombre shelves of a calf-bound law library, a ponderous cabriolet table, sturdy, rush-seated Dutch chairs, and a Franklin stove with slender brass capitols and shining hod.

“A chair, Jasper,” Stephen Jannan directed.  “You ought to know them, they came out of Myrtle Forge—­some of old Gilbert’s.  Your mother gave them to me when she did over the house in this new French fancy.”  Jasper Penny was momentarily at a loss for an adequate opening of the subject that had brought him there.  Finally he plunged directly into his purpose.  “You must know, Stephen,” he said, “that I am decidedly obligated to a Mrs. Scofield.”  Jannan nodded shortly.  “The thing dragged on for a number of years, but is quite dead now; in fact, it has been for a considerable number of months.  That, in itself, doesn’t bother me; it is comparatively simple; but there is a child, a girl, Stephen.”

“I didn’t know that,” the other acknowledged.  “It is an ugly difficulty.  Do you wish to legitimatize your—­the child?  There is marriage of course.”

“I have no intention of marrying Essie Scofield,” Jasper Penny said coldly.  “And I am almost certain she wouldn’t consent if I had.  I am quite willing to assume a proper responsibility; but there is a limit to my conception of that.  There was never any serious question of marriage; there is none now.  I simply wish to get complete control of Eunice; by adoption, perhaps; she is seven years old.”

“There are no laws of adoption, as such, in Pennsylvania,” Jannan told him.  “The only State with that provision is Louisiana; there, by an act of Legislature, the thing can be legalized.  I could arrange it through correspondence, a certain residence within the State.  It would be cumbersome and expensive, but possible.”  He paused, frowning.  “Devilish awkward,” he muttered; “make a stench in a family such as ours.  However,” he added, “a contract practically to the same effect can be drawn.  This, with her consent, would be entirely binding on Mrs. Scofield.  If the child can write it would be well to have her signature on the deed.  Bring them here; she should have counsel.”

“After that, I suppose, the name could be arranged.”

“Exactly.  The child, of course, would have no legal status as your heir.  Anything she got would have to be willed direct.”  The other nodded.  It was all far more simple than he had hoped.  He almost saw a definite lightening of the future.  “Is the girl with her mother now?” Jannan queried.