The irrepressible laughter of the two men brought only wonder and reproachful indignation into the widely opened eyes of Barker.  He was perfectly sincere.  He had been thinking of Stacy’s admiration for Mrs. Horncastle in his ride from Boomville, and, strange to say, yet characteristic of his nature, it was equally the natural outcome of his interview with her and the singular effect she had upon him.  That he (Barker) thoroughly sympathized with her only convinced him that Stacy must feel the same for her, and that, no doubt, she must respond to him equally.  And how noble it was in his old partner, with his advantages of position in the world and his protecting relations to her, not to avail himself of this influence upon her generous nature.  If he himself—­a married man and the husband of Kitty—­was so conscious of her charm, how much greater it must be to the free and inexperienced Stacy.

The italics were in Barker’s thought; for in those matters he felt that Stacy and even Demorest, occupied in other things, had not his knowledge.  There was no idea or consciousness of heroically sacrificing himself or Mrs. Horncastle in this.  I am afraid there was not even an idea of a superior morality in himself in giving up the possibility of loving her.  Ever since Stacy had first seen her he had fancied that Stacy liked her,—­indeed, Kitty fancied it, too,—­and it seemed almost providential now that he should know how to assist his old partner to happiness.  For it was inconceivable that Stacy should not be able to rescue this woman from her shameful bonds, or that she should not consent to it through his (Barker’s) arguments and entreaties.  To a “champion of dames” this seemed only right and proper.  In his unfailing optimism he translated Stacy’s laugh as embarrassment and Demorest’s as only ignorance of the real question.  But Demorest had noticed, if he had not, that Stacy’s laugh was a little nervously prolonged for a man of his temperament, and that he had cast a very keen glance at Barker.  A messenger arriving with a telegram brought from Boomville called Stacy momentarily away, and Barker was not slow to take advantage of his absence.

“I wish, Phil,” he said, hitching his chair closer to Demorest, “that you would think seriously of this matter, and try to persuade Stacy—­who, I believe, is more interested in Mrs. Horncastle than he cares to show—­to put a little of that determination in love that he has shown in business.  She’s an awfully fine woman, and in every way suited to him, and he is letting an absurd sense of pride and honor keep him from influencing her to get rid of her impossible husband.  There’s no reason,” continued Barker in a burst of enthusiastic simplicity, “that because she has found some one she likes better, and who would treat her better, that she should continue to stick to that beast whom all California would gladly see her divorced from.  I never could understand that kind of argument, could you?”