The note Marise meant to write was not written; for, as the door of the suite shut behind John Garth, Mrs. Sorel came to the girl with news.

"Dear child, I promised you shouldn't be disturbed, whatever happened, but Tony has been telephoning for the sixth time to-day. Poor boy! He's very anxious about you. Don't look so cynical! If your face should ever settle into lines like that, your beauty would be gone! This time he wanted to know if you're better for your long sleep, and if you can see him."

"No, I can't, mother! Not till something's decided. I simply can't act to-night if I have to go through another scene with him."

"Oh, I'm not suggesting it, pet! I merely wanted to know what I should say to poor Tony. I told him that I'd call him up and give him his answer when you were free."

Marise started. "Did you say who was here with me?"

"Ye-es, I thought it would be best. I imagined you must be very sure the man was—the one we're in search of."

The girl shivered. "Marise in Search of a Husband! We never expected it would come to that with me, did we, Mums? But anyhow, I hadn't to search far. That's one consolation! I was snapped up the minute I appeared in the show window."

"Well, Tony was wrong about that Garth man, then!"

"Yes, he was wrong. I must write and let him know why Garth came—unless you told him why?"

"I said only what I dared say through the telephone. You know how careful I am of anything that concerns you. What I told him was, 'Major G——' (not even Garth!) 'has come to talk over that proposition you thought he wouldn't accept. His staying so long makes me fancy he may be accepting after all.' That is every word."

"Good! I shan't need to write! Please 'phone again, Mums, and explain that I don't feel as if I could see Tony till after the theatre. He may come to my dressing-room a few minutes then, if he likes. You can bring him in. I won't be alone with him for an instant! Tell him that I talked with Garth, who's inclined to accept. But I left it to him—Tony—to make matters clear, and he must telephone Garth for an appointment at the Belmore—not the Waldorf."

"Severance to go to Garth! He'll refuse——"

"Then the whole thing is off!" Marise threw out her arms in a gesture of exasperation. "He can take the offer or leave it."

Mary said no more, but flew to the 'phone in her own room, with the door shut between. Presently she came back. "Tony has consented," she announced. "Another proof of his great love!"

Never had Lord Severance felt that he appeared to less advantage than when he was shown into the Bounder's sitting-room at the Belmore Hotel. He held himself very straight, however, and was every inch an Ancient Greek, if not an English earl.

Garth had been engaged in writing a letter and puffing smoke over it from a meerschaum pipe some shades browner than his face.

At sight of Severance, and the sound of his name deformed by a page-boy, the big man rose, topping his tall guest in height and erectness.

"Well?" was his only greeting, as the door closed. He pushed a box of cigarettes across the table. "Those are the smokes you prefer, I believe."

"Thanks. I have my own. And my own matches."

"All right." Garth continued to puff at his pipe.

"You have seen Miss Sorel, I understand."

"That is so."

"She—or rather Mrs. Sorel—'phoned me that—er—though you'd had some conversation, the—affair hadn't been entirely explained to you. That's as it should be. It's my business, and my place, to explain it."

"Fire away. Do you want to sit down?"

"I prefer to stand."

"My sentiments!"

Severance lit a cigarette, and took some time in the process.

"It's rather a long story," he drawled, not with a conscious desire to put on airs, but because his wasn't an easy task, with that bounder's yellow eyes pinning him down, never off his face for a second.

"I'm afraid, to make you understand and prevent your doing an injustice to Miss Sorel, I'll have to bore you, in beginning, with a short rÉsumÉ of my personal history."

"Spit it out. Though you needn't fear my doing that lady an injustice. It would take something worse than a lack of tact on your part, or any man's, to make me such a fool."

"Glad you feel so about it"

"So am I. Shoot!"

Thus prodded without ceasing, Severance began the tale. He told about his half-uncle, and his half-uncle's daughter. Whether it was Œnone's state of invalidism or the state of her affections which drew from Garth, a grunt of "Poor girl!" Tony was not sure. But, in the circumstances, the less notice he took of disturbing trifles the better. He stated his case with as much care as if he had been pleading in court, as his own defender. In fact, he had rehearsed some sentences hastily on his way from the Waldorf to the Belmore. Yet those eyes of Garth's were as disconcerting as the watchful eyes of an uncaged panther, alleged to be tame. Severance forgot the words he had thought of, and had to substitute others not so effective. With the most earnest wish to cut the best figure possible, for dear dignity's sake, he felt himself floundering more than once. At least, however, he did not break down. Somehow he got to his goal, and knew that even a boor like Garth could not fail to see what—if he took on the job—was required of him.

"So that's that!" Tony finished, and threw away his cigarette.

He had not been looking at the other man much as he talked. It was easier and pleasanter not to do so; but, despite Garth's silence (not once had he interrupted with a question or exclamation), Severance wasn't quite sure how this type of fellow would act in the circumstances.

Of course, the bare hint that he might accept such a part would be the last of insults to a proud man—a gentleman. Garth, however, was merely a "temporary gentleman," and probably hadn't saved a sou. To a person of his sort, a million dollars would be a dazzling bribe. Still, the brute had an ugly temper, as he had shown once or twice in the past, and he was capable of violence. Tony was doubtful, still, how to take him. Common as the Bounder was, his brother officer had vaguely placed him a peg above this level. The black eyes made a sudden effort to dominate the yellow-grey ones and read their secret, in order—if need be—to ward away a blow.

But there was no such need, it seemed. Garth stood with feet apart, always doggedly puffing at his pipe, hands thrust deep in pockets. He had produced a cloud of smoke as dense as that which emanated from a Geni of the Lamp, and Severance could not pierce to his expression.

For a minute neither spoke. Then Garth brought forth from the depths a hand, removed the meerschaum from his mouth, and, having knocked out the ash, lovingly laid the pipe on the mantelpiece.

Severance stood alert, prepared for what might come. But nothing came.

"What did Miss Sorel say about me?" Garth bluntly questioned. "I mean yesterday or to-day."

"We have scarcely mentioned you when we were together. I told you it was her mother who telephoned me. There has been no other communication on the subject. I hope I've made it plain to you that Mrs. Sorel approves this plan."

"Plain as a pikestaff. She would approve of it, or any plan of yours. I should judge she's that kind of a person. She thinks her daughter born for the English aristocracy and millions. Then I'm to understand that the ladies gave you no reason for believing me the man—to take this on?"

"They went into no details. Miss Marks may have led them——"

"We can drop the subject. All I wanted to know is what they said, not what they thought. Well, a million dollars is quite a wad! And every man has his price. I'd do a lot for a million. But in this case——"

"Yes?"

"I ask you to raise your bid if you wish to buy yours truly."

"Oh, if it's a question of a few thousands——"

"It isn't. I'll take the rest of the payment in another medium. Not money. And I want it in advance."

"What d'you want?"

"You're a boxer, I believe?"

"Not bad."

"Heavy-weight, of course!"

"Yes."

"So am I. Jim Jackson trained me, and taught me most of what I know."

"Ah! I've heard of him."

"Most men have."

"What are you leading up to?"

"My advance payment for the job. I take it on only upon that one condition."

"I don't fully understand."

"Well, as I just said, a million's quite a wad, and I, like every man, have my price. Also, I've my pride. Now, you don't know the reasons I may have for deciding to pocket that pride at the same time with your millions. Take it that they're mercenary. What does it matter to you? But even a gilded pill slips down easier in jam. The jam I want is a round or two with you, man to man, no gloves. Now d'you understand?"

"You want to fight me?"

"A little round, I said. We ought to be pretty evenly matched."

"It seems to me a very childish idea," said Severance.

"May be it is. But it's my idea. And those are my terms. Refuse or accept."

Severance fingered his moustache in the way he had. "When do you want to do this damned fool thing, and in what circumstances?" he hedged.

"Now. Circumstances those of the present minute. We can take off our coats. I suppose you don't wear corsets?"

Severance deigned no answer to this taunt. He thought hard for an instant. He was a good boxer, and had been complimented before the war by Carpentier himself. Garth was unlikely to be his equal. If the ass wanted to work off steam and save his beastly face this silly way, let him!

"If I consent to fight, you consent to—er——"

"Yes, whether you or I get the best of this."

"Done, then!"

They tore off their coats, collars, neckties, and waist-coats. Garth had a sullen, ugly grin on his face as he pushed back the table and cleared the room. Severance did not know what to make of the man, but had confidence in himself.

Two hours later the telephone-bell rang in Mrs. Sorel's room. She was putting on hat and coat to go to the theatre with Marise, but she ran to take up the receiver.

"Is that your voice, Lord Severance—Tony? Why, I wasn't sure at first," she answered an indistinct murmur at the other end. "You sound different, somehow! What? You've had a fall? Loosened a front tooth? Oh, my poor dear boy—your beautiful white teeth! Marise will shed tears. Of course, you mustn't leave your rooms to-night.... Indeed, you must be sure he's the best dentist in New York. He'll fix you up in no time.... Why, yes, I suppose I can run in, without Marise, just for a minute ... if it would comfort you at all.... The man Gar—said 'yes'? Well, that's a consolation! You settled the whole thing before your accident? But you'll tell me the story when I come."

For the first time, Garth did not go to the theatre that night. Never had he felt more physically fit, but he did not wish to see Marise. He felt that he would not be master of himself, through her "great scene" in the last act. He would want to spring on the stage and choke her. As he thought this, he looked at his knuckles. They were cracked and bruised, but the sight did not displease him. He stretched out his arms wide in a sweeping gesture, his hands spread palm upwards.

"God!" he said. "I've got my chance. To punish him. To punish her, too. Why not? The devil knows how well she deserves it. And yet—I don't know. We shall see!"