When Jimmy reached his office after his unforeseen call upon Zoie, his subsequent encounter with Alfred, and his enforced luncheon at home with Aggie, he found his mail, his 'phone calls, and his neglected appointments in a state of hopeless congestion, and try as he would, he could not concentrate upon their disentanglement. Growing more and more furious with the long legged secretary who stood at the corner of his desk, looking down upon him expectantly, and waiting for his tardy instructions, Jimmy rose and looked out of the window. He could feel Andrew's reproachful eyes following him.

“Shall Miss Perkins take your letters now?” asked Andrew, and he wondered how late the office staff would be kept to-night to make up for the time that was now being wasted.

Coming after repeated wounds from his nearest and dearest, Andrew's implied reproach was too much for Jimmy's overwrought nerves. “Get out!” he answered unceremoniously. And when Andrew could assure himself that he had heard aright, he stalked out of the door with his head high in the air.

Jimmy looked after his departing secretary with positive hatred. It was apparent to him that the whole world was against him. He had been too easy he decided. His family, friends, and business associates had undoubtedly lost all respect for him. From this day forth he was determined to show himself to be a man of strong mettle.

Having made this important decision and having convinced himself that he was about to start on a new life, Jimmy strode to the door of the office and, without disturbing the injured Andrew, he called sharply to Miss Perkins to come at once and take his letters.

Poor Jimmy! Again he tried in vain to concentrate upon the details of the “cut-glass” industry. Invariably his mind would wander back to the unexpected incidents of the morning. Stopping suddenly in the middle of a letter to a competing firm, he began pacing hurriedly up and down the room.

Had she not feared that her chief might misconstrue any suggestion from her as an act of impertinence, Miss Perkins, having learned all the company's cut-glass quotations by rote, could easily have supplied the remainder of the letter. As it was, she waited impatiently, tapping the corner of the desk with her idle pencil. Jimmy turned at the sound, and glanced at the pencil with unmistakable disapproval. Miss Perkins waited in silence. After one or two more uneasy laps about the room, Jimmy went to his 'phone and called his house number.

“It's undoubtedly domestic trouble,” decided Miss Perkins, and she wondered whether it would be delicate of her, under the circumstances, to remain in the room.

From her employer's conversation at the 'phone, it was clear to Miss Perkins that Mrs. Jinks was spending the afternoon with Mrs Hardy, but why this should have so annoyed MR. Jinks was a question that Miss Perkins found it difficult to answer. Was it possible that Mr. Jinks's present state of unrest could be traced to the door of the beautiful young wife of his friend? “Oh dear,” thought Miss Perkins, “how scandalous!”

“That will do,” commanded Jimmy, interrupting Miss Perkins's interesting speculations, and he nodded toward the door.

“But——” stammered Miss Perkins, as she glanced at the unfinished letters.

“I'll call you when I need you,” answered Jimmy gruffly. Miss Perkins left the room in high dudgeon.

“I'LL show them,” said Jimmy to himself, determined to carry out his recent resolve to be firm.

Then his mind wend back to his domestic troubles. “Suppose, that Zoie, after imposing secrecy upon him, should change that thing called her 'mind' and confide in Aggie about the luncheon?” Jimmy was positively pale. He decided to telephone to Zoie's house and find out how affairs were progressing. At the 'phone he hesitated. “If Aggie HAS found out about the luncheon,” he argued, “my 'phoning to Zoie's will increase her suspicions. If Zoie has told her nothing, she'll wonder why I'm 'phoning to Zoie's house. There's only one thing to do,” he decided. “I must wait and say nothing. I can tell from Aggie's face when I meet her at dinner whether Zoie has betrayed me.”

Having arrived at this conclusion, Jimmy resolved to get home as early as possible, and again Miss Perkins was called to his aid.

The flurry with which Jimmy despatched the day's remaining business confirmed both Miss Perkins and Andrew in their previous opinion that “the boss” had suddenly “gone off his head.” And when he at last left the office and banged the door behind him there was a general sigh of relief from his usually tranquil staff.

Instead of walking, as was his custom, Jimmy took a taxi to his home but alas, to his surprise he found no wife.

“Did Mrs. Jinks leave any word?” he inquired from the butler.

“None at all,” answered that unperturbed creature; and Jimmy felt sure that the attitude of his office antagonists had communicated itself to his household servants.

When Jimmy's anxious ear at last caught the rustle of a woman's dress in the hallway, his dinner had been waiting half an hour, and he had worked himself into a state of fierce antagonism toward everything and everybody.

At the sound of Aggie's voice however, his heart began to pound with fear. “Had she found him out for the weak miserable deceiver that he was? Would she tell him that they were going to separate forever?”

Aggie's first words were reassuring. “Awfully sorry to be so late, dear,” she said.

Jimmy felt her kiss upon his chubby cheek and her dear arms about his neck. He decided forthwith to tell her everything, and never, never again to run the risk of deceiving her; but before he could open his lips, she continued gaily:

“I've brought Zoie home with me, dear. There's no sense in her eating all alone, and she's going to have ALL her dinners with us.” Jimmy groaned. “After dinner,” continued Aggie, “you and I can take her to the theatre and all those places and keep her cheered until Alfred comes home.”

“Home?” repeated Jimmy in alarm. Was it possible that Alfred had already relented?

“Oh, he doesn't know it yet,” explained Aggie, “but he's coming. We'll tell you all about it at dinner.” And they did.

While waiting for Aggie, Jimmy had thought himself hungry, but once the two women had laid before him their “nefarious baby-snatching scheme”—food lost its savour for him, and one course after another was taken away from him untouched.

Each time that Jimmy ventured a mild objection to his part in the plan, as scheduled by them, he met the threatening eye of Zoie; and by the time that the three left the table he was so harassed and confused by the chatter of the two excited women, that he was not only reconciled but eager to enter into any scheme that might bring Alfred back, and free him of the enforced companionship of Alfred's nerve-racking wife. True, he reflected, it was possible that Alfred, on his return, might discover him to be the culprit who lunched with Zoie and might carry out his murderous threat; but even such a fate was certainly preferable to interminable evenings spent under the same roof with Zoie.

“All YOU need do, Jimmy,” explained Aggie sweetly, when the three of them were comfortably settled in the library, “is to see your friend the Superintendent of the Babies' Home, and tell him just what kind of a baby we shall need, and when we shall need it.”

“Can't we see it ourselves?” chimed in Zoie.

“Oh yes, indeed,” said Aggie confidently, and she turned to Jimmy with a matter-of-fact tone. “You'd better tell the Superintendent to have several for us to look at when the time arrives.”

“Yes, that's better,” agreed Zoie.

As for Jimmy, he had long ceased to make any audible comment, but internally he was saying to himself: “man of strong mettle, indeed!”

“We'll attend to all the clothes for the child,” said Aggie generously to Jimmy.

“I want everything to be hand-made,” exclaimed Zoie enthusiastically.

“We can make a great many of the things ourselves, evenings,” said Aggie, “while we sit here and talk to Jimmy.”

“I thought we were going OUT evenings!” objected Zoie.

Jimmy rolled his eyes toward her like a dumb beast of burden.

“MOST evenings,” assented Aggie. “And then toward the last, you know, Zoie——” she hesitated to explain further, for Jimmy was already becoming visibly embarrassed.

“Oh, yes, that's true,” blushed Zoie.

There was an awkward pause, then Aggie turned again toward Jimmy, who was pretending to rebuild the fire. “Oh yes, one more thing,” she said. “When everything is quite ready for Alfred's return, we'll allow you, Jimmy dear, to wire him the good news.”

“Thanks, so much,” said Jimmy.

“I wish it were time to wire now,” said Zoie pensively, and in his mind, Jimmy fervently agreed with that sentiment.

“The next few months will slip by before you know it,” declared Aggie cheerfully. “And by the way, Zoie,” she added, “why should you go back to your lonesome flat to-night?”

Zoie began to feel for her pocket handkerchief—Jimmy sat up to receive the next blow. “Stay here with us,” suggested Aggie. “We'll be so glad to have you.” She included Jimmy in her glance. “Won't we, dear?” she asked.

When the two girls went upstairs arm in arm that night, Jimmy remained in his chair by the fire, too exhausted to even prepare for bed. “A man of mettle!” he said again to himself.

This had certainly been the longest day of his life.