She listened, and when he had finished, she put her arms around his neck, and said: 

“You see when confidence is withheld from me, I become violently angry, and punish the culprit by going away.”  Then she kissed him, arose, backed to the door, reached behind her, opened it, passed out, then kissing her hand to him, closed the door.

Sedgwick went out, and at once repaired to the hotel where Jordan stopped when in the city.  He had been out of town following some whim, and Sedgwick had not seen him since Derby Day.

Reaching the hotel, he learned that Jordan had returned, and soon found him.

Jordan met him joyfully, explained why he had been away, that he was thinking all the way home from the Derby that if he remained he might be a burden to Sedgwick and his new friends; that the best thing to do was to take no chances, and so he had been making the tour of Ireland.

Of that country he had much to say.  “Yo’ oughter go thar, Jim,” he said.  “Thar’s a people wot ken look poverty in ther face ’nd laff it ter scorn; whar three squar meals a day ken be made on hope; whar wit grows on ther bushes; whar ther air ez filled with songs ’nd full hearts fill ther vacancy made by empty stomachs.  It’s ther most pathetic spot on earth, Jim.  A race lives ther filled with energy and hope, a race as is generous and brave, ‘nd warm-hearted, holdin’ within ’em vitality enough ter found a dozen empires, but chained by poverty ’nd superstition, ’nd hate of the bruiser on this side of ther channel; nussin’ impossible dreams ’ev a nationality which ther kentry couldn’t support ef once obtained; proud ez Lucifer of a past which hez little in it ’cept wrong ’nd tyranny ’nd sufferin’; all ther exertions confined in a narrer groove, all ther work of no avail because uv indirection; clingin’ ter homes which keeps ’em helpless ‘nd only accomplishin’ somethin’ when transplanted to other fields, ‘nd then carryin’ on ther world’s work, fiten’ ther world’s battles, sailin’ ther world’s ships, workin’ ther world’s mines, subduen’ ther world’s wildernesses, runnin’ ther world’s primaries, ‘nd bein’ ther world’s perlicemen.  I tell yo’, Jim, it war pitiful.

“When I told ’em I war an American, they opened ther arms ter me ter once, ’nd took me in.  What questions they asked!  And when I told ’em about ther broad acres in Texas, how they cud go thar and each in a few months or years own his own farm half a mile squar, how ther eyes flashed ’nd ther faces glowed!  It teched my heart, Jim, ter see ’em, ’nd made a old fool uv me in one place, shore.

“I stopped in a house one night whar ther war ther old man ’nd woman, a grown-up son ’nd a girl who war, maybe, eighteen year old.  Thet girl, Jim, war fine.  Blue eyes ’nd har that war the color which ware ’twixt a brown and a flaxen, with er blush rose shadin’; a clear-cut face like that of a Greek stater; dainty form ‘nd limbs; the roundest arms yo’ ever seen ’nd a hand like Aferdites.  I noticed, too—­axidentally in course, that ther thick brogans on her feet were little ’nd shapely ef ther war thick brogans.  But, finest of all war her complexion.  Ther warm air as blows over the Gulf Stream are good ter all complexions in Ireland, but it had done extra fur thet girl.  It war perfect.