A little later, I think, personalities began again.

“You’re always helping people, Una, always helping,” he said slowly.  “Does it make you happy?”

“Yes, if I can help.”

“And you want to help me?  I wonder if I’m worth it.”

“Yes, I wouldn’t bother if you weren’t.”

“And how do you know I’m worth it?”

“It’s my business to know,” she said.

Jerry sent the car spinning joyously down a fine stretch of straight empty road.  And then when he had reduced the car to a slower pace,

“You know, Una,” he laughed, “you do take charge of a fellow, don’t you?”

“You need ’mothering’,” she smiled.

“Or sistering.  I wish I had a sister like you.  Fellows ought to have sisters, anyway.  People ought to be born in pairs, male and female.”

She laughed and then with sudden seriousness: 

“But people ought to stand on their feet.  All the ‘sistering’ in the world won’t help a lame man to walk.”

“I’m not so awfully lame, am I?”

“No.  Just limpy.  But don’t try to run yet, Jerry.”

“Oh, I say—­”

“Just keep your eyes open.  You’ll see.”  And then quietly, “You know Phil Laidlaw, don’t you?”

“Oh, yes, fine chap.”

“I think it wouldn’t harm you to know Phil better.  He isn’t brilliant, but he’s steady, sure, reliable.  And he stands on his feet, Jerry, on both of them.”

Jerry’s comment to me in telling this part of the conversation was amusing.  “Phil Laidlaw is a good fellow and all that,” he muttered, “but hang it all, Roger, you can’t stomach having another man’s virtues thrust down your throat!”

My own comment may be interesting.

“I don’t wonder that she cares for him,” I said.  “A good match, I should say.”

“H—­m,” replied Jerry.  “I can’t seem to think of Una married to anybody.  She’s so much occupied—­”

“But she will be married some day, my boy.  Charity begins at home.”

She had used her woman’s weapons loyally, at least.  I think her comments on Laidlaw must have made Jerry silent for awhile and he told me little of the conversation that followed.  But they must have “cleared up” all the things that stood between them.  I think the subsequent conversation must have been largely pleasant and personal, for Jerry spoke of the wonderful weather and how Una admired the view they had of the great river from Hoboken with the lights of the towers of Manhattan, like the sparks of some mighty fire, hanging midway in the air.

I was silent when he had concluded.  Evidently he wanted me to say something, for he looked at me once or twice as he was refilling his pipe.  But I was thinking deeply.

“She’s a wonder,” he said after awhile.  “You know the committee of ladies that’s supposed to manage things down town have all gone away, leaving the whole responsibility to Una—­the plans, specifications, business arrangements and all.”