"We know that the dinner hour is looming on the horizon, and we're not
going to stay," said Dick. "But your husband has some civic reform
monographs that I thought I would borrow while he was in the lending
mood."
"You needn't apologize, Dick," she laughed. "You are more than tolerated
in this house."
There came a sharp noise, and Madeline Elton, with pale face and eyes
big, stood in the doorway. Every one knew that something had happened,
and Mrs. Lenox, who saw the rolled magazine in the nervous hand, guessed
its purport in a flash.
"My dear girl!" she cried, running forward, "you are not going to let
such a pin-prick hurt you!"
"Oh, Vera," exclaimed the girl, putting her face down on her friend's
shoulder, "you know! It does hurt. I can't help it," and she sobbed.
The three men looked on in puzzled helpless masculinity, and the Swami
surveyed the scene as the two women clung to each other.
"Vera," said Mr. Lenox, "are we permitted to know what this means?" Mrs.
Lenox kept her arm around Madeline's shoulder as she turned.
"It's only an ugly little fling in the Chatterer, Frank," she said,
"and it sounds as though it might refer to Madeline. It is nothing, but
I dare say my dear girl does not enjoy a bit of dirt even on her outer
garment. And, Madeline, very likely it is not meant for you."
"Oh, yes, it is," cried the girl. "Some one sent me this marked copy.
And I went there once when I thought he had invited a crowd to see some
tapestries. There was no one else there. There is just so much truth in
it."
"Would you rather that we should not see it?" asked Mr. Lenox.
"I'm afraid every one will see it," said Madeline shamefacedly, as she
held out the guilty pages. The three men leaned their heads over the
table with a curiosity that would have done credit to women, while Ram
Juna still looked on.
"I have already beheld the writing," he said suavely. "Mr. Early gave
way to unwonted anger when he saw. The lady must have an enemy."
"That is it," cried Madeline, turning upon him swiftly. "I think I am
not so much hurt by the scandal--every one who knows me will believe
better of me--but what cuts is that there should be some one who wants
to hurt me. I--I've always thought of the world as a friendly place. Who
is it that hates me?"
"Bah, it is a very small enemy who seeks small revenge," said the Swami,
whose own heart was filled with contempt and irritation. This was not
according to his plan. "In India, we do not so revenge."
Mr. Lenox stepped back to the fireplace, from which point a man always
surveys the world at an advantage.