“I don’t know, Jack,—­I wish I did.  He has changed lately.  When I went to his room the other night he was walking the floor; he said he couldn’t sleep, and the next morning when he didn’t come down to breakfast I went up and found him in a half stupor.  I had hard work to wake him.  Don’t tell Ruth,—­I don’t want anybody but you to know, but I wish you’d come and see him.  I’ve nobody else to turn to,—­won’t you, Jack?”

“Come! of course I’ll come, Corinne,—­now,—­this minute, if he’s home, or to-night, or any time you say.  Suppose I go back with you and wait.  Garry’s working too hard, that’s it,—­he was always that way, puts his whole soul into anything he gets interested in and never lets up until it’s accomplished.”  He waited for some reply, but she was still toying with the handle of her parasol.  Her mind had not been on his proffered help,—­she had not heard him, in fact.

“And, Jack,” she went on in the same heart-broken tone through which an unbidden sob seemed to struggle.

“Yes, I am listening, Corinne,—­what is it?”

“I want you to forgive me for the way I have always treated you.  I have—­”

“Why, Corinne, what nonsense!  Don’t you bother your head about such—­”

“Yes, but I do, and it is because I have never done anything but be ugly to you.  When you lived with us I—­”

“But we were children then, Corinne, and neither of us knew any better.  I won’t hear one word of such. nonsense.  Why, my dear girl—­” he had taken her hand as she spoke and the pair rested on his knee—­” do you think I am—­No—­you are too sensible a woman to think anything of the kind.  But that is not it, Corinne—­something worries you;” he asked suddenly with a quick glance at her face.  “What is it?  You shall have the best in me, and Ruth will help too.”

Her fingers closed over his.  The touch of the young fellow, so full of buoyant strength and hope and happiness, seemed to put new life into her.

“I don’t know, Jack.”  Her voice fell to a whisper.  “There may not be anything, yet I live under an awful terror.  Don’t ask me;—­only tell me you will help me if I need you.  I have nobody else—­my stepfather almost turned me out of his office when I went to see him the other day,—­my mother doesn’t care.  She has only been here half a dozen times, and that was when baby was born.  Hush,—­here comes Ruth,—­she must not know.”

“But she must know, Corinne.  I never have any secrets from Ruth, and don’t you have any either.  Ruth couldn’t be anything but kind to you and she never misunderstands, and she is so helpful.  Here she is.  Ruth, dear, we were just waiting for you.  Corinne is nervous and depressed, and imagines all sorts of things, one of which is that we don’t care for her:  and I’ve just told her that we do?”

Ruth looked into Jack’s eyes as if to get his meaning—­she must always get her cue from him now—­she was entirely unconscious of the cause of it all, or why Corinne should feel so, but if Jack thought Corinne was suffering and that she wanted comforting, all she had was at Corinne’s and Jack’s disposal.  With a quick movement she leaned forward and laid her hand on Corinne’s shoulder.