“I haven’t thanked you for the roses,” he said.

“Oh yes, you did.  When you first looked at them!”

“So I did,” he whispered.  “I’m glad you saw.  To find them here took my breath away—­and to find you with them—­”

“I brought them this morning, you know.”

“Would you have come if you had not understood why I failed yesterday?”

“Oh yes, I think so,” she returned, the fine edge of a smile upon her lips.  “For a time last evening, before I heard what had happened, I thought you were too frightened a friend to bother about.”

He made a little ejaculation, partly joyful, partly sad.

“And yet,” she went on, “I think that I should have come this morning, after all, even if you had a poorer excuse for your absence, because, you see, I came on business.”

“You did?”

“That’s why I’ve come again.  That makes it respectable for me to be here now, doesn’t it?—­for me to have come out alone after dark without their knowing it?  I’m here as your client, Joe.”

“Why?” he asked.

She did not answer at once, but picked up a pen from beneath her hand on the desk, and turning it, meditatively felt its point with her forefinger before she said slowly, “Are most men careful of other people’s—­well, of other people’s money?”

“You mean Martin Pike?” he asked.

“Yes.  I want you to take charge of everything I have for me.”

He bent a frowning regard upon the lamp-shade.  “You ought to look after your own property,” he said.  “You surely have plenty of time.”

“You mean—­you mean you won’t help me?” she returned, with intentional pathos.

“Ariel!” he laughed, shortly, in answer; then asked, “What makes you think Judge Pike isn’t trustworthy?”

“Nothing very definite perhaps, unless it was his look when I told him that I meant to ask you to take charge of things for me.”

“He’s been rather hard pressed this year, I think,” said Joe.  “You might be right—­if he could have found a way.  I hope he hasn’t.”

“I’m afraid,” she began, gayly, “that I know very little of my own affairs.  He sent me a draft every three months, with receipts and other things to sign and return to him.  I haven’t the faintest notion of what I own—­except the old house and some money from the income that I hadn’t used and brought with me.  Judge Pike has all the papers—­everything.”

Joe looked troubled.  “And Roger Tabor, did he—­”

“The dear man!” She shook her head.  “He was just the same.  To him poor Uncle Jonas’s money seemed to come from heaven through the hands of Judge Pike—­”

“And there’s a handsome roundabout way!” said Joe.

“Wasn’t it!” she agreed, cheerfully.  “And he trusted the Judge absolutely.  I don’t, you see.”

He gave her a thoughtful look and nodded.  “No, he isn’t a good man,” he said, “not even according to his lights; but I doubt if he could have managed to get away with anything of consequence after he became the administrator.  He wouldn’t have tried it, probably, unless he was more desperately pushed than I think he has been.  It would have been too dangerous.  Suppose you wait a week or so and think it over.”