The next afternoon Henrietta left her office early, in order to discharge some commissions for her sister in the shopping district. Stopping to look at a window display of spring costumes, her eye was caught by a dress that suited her taste exactly. She inspected it from both sides and went into the doorway that she might get the back view.

“What a lovely suit and how becoming it would be for me!” she thought. “I wonder if I could afford to buy it. Oh dear, no! I mustn’t even think of such a thing! It would be just that much off the mortgage payments.”

She turned away with a sigh and found herself face to face with Hugh Gordon, who glanced with a quizzical smile from her to the window.

“Did you hear one of the commandments cracking?” she laughed. “I’ve just been coveting one of those suits as hard as I could.”

“Are you going in to buy it now?” he asked with a suggestion of disappointment in his air, as if, having come upon her so unexpectedly, he disliked to lose her again at once.

“Oh, dear, no! I’m not going to buy it at all. I can’t afford it.”

“Well, then, you are wise not to buy it, and the best way is not even to think about it any more,” he said in that abrupt manner to which, although it had sometimes startled her at their first meetings, she had already grown accustomed. She had told herself more than once, indeed, that she liked it in him, it seemed so expressive of his masculine forcefulness and decision of character.

“How different you are from Mr. Brand,” she answered smiling. “He would say in such case, ‘If you want it why don’t you buy it at once? There’s no time like the present for doing the things you want to do.’”

His brows came together in a quick frown and his eyes flashed as he said: “Yes, I know that is his philosophy of life. But it’s not mine by a long ways. I think it despicable.”

His voice sounded harsh and angry and Henrietta looked up in surprise at the intensity of feeling it betrayed.

Then she remembered Dr. Annister’s suggestion and exclaimed, “Oh, by the way, I’ve a message for you!”

He listened with interest as she told him of Dr. Annister’s desire to see him and asked if he could either go there with her now or make an appointment for another day.

“It would be kind of you to go,” she added. “You have relieved my mind so much about Mr. Brand that I am hoping you can make them feel a little less anxious, too—especially Miss Annister. I suppose you know she and Mr. Brand are engaged!”

“Yes, I know it,” he answered curtly as he looked at his watch. “I have some leisure time now, a couple of hours, and I can go at once as well as not. I don’t know,” he went on doubtfully, “whether or not Miss Annister will want to see me. She is much prejudiced against me.”

Henrietta’s mind flew back to the decided opinions Mildred had advanced to the reporters, which, however, she was glad to remember, they had modified in their accounts.

“She was, some weeks ago,” Henrietta began reassuringly.

“And is yet,” he declared. “I happen to know that her feeling toward me is very hostile. And Felix has encouraged her in it.”

“She is so very much in love with Mr. Brand and so wildly anxious it would be a great kindness to give her even a little comfort,” Henrietta gently urged.

“I’ll do what I can,” he replied after a moment’s hesitation. He spoke slowly and his companion, looking up, wondered at the extremely serious expression that had come into his face.

As they entered the Annister home, Mildred and her mother were descending the stairs, dressed for the street. Henrietta looked up from the doorway and saw Mildred’s countenance transfigured with sudden joy.

The girl sprang down the steps with a cry of “Oh, Felix, Felix!” Gordon stepped in from the vestibule where his features had been blurred by the brilliant sunlight behind him, and Mildred, stricken with disappointment, threw up her hands to cover the tears she could not control, and sobbing, rushed back up the stairs. Gordon looked grimly on, his face set and scowling, as if he were gripping deep into his very soul with an iron determination.

“Come up to the drawing-room,” said Mrs. Annister, when Henrietta had presented her companion and explained their errand, “and I’ll send for Dr. Annister.”

Thither also she presently brought Mildred. But the stately air with which the girl entered the room and the haughty inclination of her head with which she acknowledged Gordon’s greeting told how little trust she expected to feel in anything he might say.

In answer to Dr. Annister’s inquiries Gordon told them, in substance, what he had already said to Henrietta and gave them, in brief, curt sentences, that seemed to spring spontaneously out of the force and simplicity of his character, the same assurances that Brand was in no danger and that he would return, safe and well, in his own good time.

“That,” he added, “is all that I can tell you, because it is all I know. But I do know that.”

“Father!” cried Mildred, springing from her chair, her slender figure militantly erect, her eyes flashing and her voice thrilling with indignation. “How can you sit there and listen to this man’s talk! Why don’t you throttle him and make him tell all he knows? It’s plain enough that if he knows this much he must know where Felix is and why he doesn’t write to me. But I see through it all! He’s got Felix locked up somewhere, perhaps in some mountain cabin in West Virginia, or perhaps he’s killed him. He ought to be arrested! If you don’t care enough for Felix to have it done I’ll telephone for the police at once and he shall not leave this house until they come!”

Her words poured forth in an angry torrent, and then, with a sobbing cry, she swept from the room. Dr. Annister leaped to his feet as if to follow her, then turned with a hand outstretched to his wife.

“You’d better go to her,” he said anxiously. “She’s hysterical and must be put to bed. I’ll be there presently. I hope you will pardon my daughter’s outburst,” he added, turning to Gordon with a little bow. “She is overwrought from having brooded over this matter much more than it deserves. I don’t share her suspicion of you and you seem to me to show every mark of a man speaking honestly what he believes to be the truth. But you will pardon me if I say I do not quite understand how it can all be true.”

They had all risen and Gordon was looking straight down into the little physician’s eyes with an expression so serious and solemn that Henrietta caught her breath, intently listening for what he was about to say.

“No,” he replied, slowly, gravely, “I do not wonder that you do not understand. Neither do I.”

Professional inquiry was in the keen glance with which Dr. Annister searched for an instant his visitor’s face and eyes. Henrietta, watching him, guessed that he was probing for some sign of mental aberration. But apparently he was satisfied on that score, for as he followed them out he gave her a reassuring pat upon the arm.

“Well,” he said more cheerfully, “since this is all you can tell us, we shall have to wait with what patience we can for Mr. Brand’s return. But I will tell you frankly, Mr. Gordon, that I, at least, have confidence in you and accept your assurances.”

He did not tell them, however, by what course of reasoning he had quickly come to this conclusion. That was something to be kept closely locked in his own breast until he should see Felix Brand again. For he had decided that the most probable key to the mystery was that his daughter’s betrothed was indulging in some secret form of debauchery, perhaps solitary drunkenness, perhaps indulgence in some drug, perhaps mere beastliness, and that this fact was known to his intimate friend, Hugh Gordon, who, in single-minded loyalty, was trying to protect him. A normal man’s disgust at such a course of conduct, thought the doctor, would explain the antipathy which he was often unable to conceal when Brand’s name was mentioned.

Henrietta thought her companion somewhat abstracted on their way down town, and unusually serious, even for him, who was accustomed to take, as she had already learned, a serious view of himself and the world. He crossed the ferry with her, and not until they had ensconced themselves in a quiet corner of the boat’s upper deck did he seem to settle the question which had been disturbing his mind. But settled she decided it must be, for he now gave himself up to enjoyment of her society.

When they landed he walked with her to her trolley car, where they stood, still talking, until the motorman began making preparations to start.

“Good-bye,” he said unsmilingly, as he held out his hand. “I shall see you again sometime, but I fear it will not be soon.”