Frederick Towne never arrived in his office until ten o’clock. So Jane was ahead of him. She sat in a luxurious outer room, waiting. To the right was a great open space—with desks boxed in by glass partitions. The wall paper was green, so that the people at the desks had the effect of fish in an aquarium. There was the constant staccato tap of typewriters, and now and then a girl got up, swam as it were, out of one of the glass boxes and into another.
The girls were most of them well dressed. Much better dressed than Jane who had on a cheap gray suit and a soft little hat of the same color. One of the girls, fair-haired and slender, was in the nearest glass box. She wore a black serge frock and a string of ivory beads. She looked to Jane much more distinguished than any of the others.
When Frederick came in he saw Jane at once, and held out his hand smiling. “You’ve heard from Edith?”
“Yes. Last night. Too late to let you know.”
“Good. We’ll go into my room.” He led the way, and Jane was at once aware of the effect of his cordial manner upon the fish who had been[98] swimming in and out of the aquarium. Between the time of Frederick’s entrance and the moment when he closed the door upon them, they seemed to hang suspended. She supposed that after that they swam again.
If the outer room had resembled an aquarium, Frederick’s was like a forest—there was a plant or two and more green paper—the shine of old mahogany—and in one of the shadowy corners a bronze elephant.
Jane was thrilled by a sense of things happening. Outwardly calm, she was inwardly stirred by excitement.
She sat in a big leather chair which nearly swallowed her up, and stated her errand.
“Baldy thought I’d better come, he’s so busy, and anyhow he thinks I have more tact.” She tilted her chin at him and smiled.
“And you thought it needed tact.”
“Well, don’t you, Mr. Towne? We really haven’t a thing to do with it, and I’m sure you think so. Only now we’re in it, we want to do the best we can.”
“I see. Since Edith has chosen you and your brother as ambassadors, you’ve got to use diplomacy.”
“She didn’t choose me, she chose Baldy.”
“But why can’t she deal directly with me?”
“She ran away from you. And she isn’t ready to come back.”
[99]“She ought to come back.”
“She doesn’t think so. And she’s afraid you’ll insist.”
“What does she want me to do?”
“Send her the bag with the money and the check-book, and let Baldy take out a lot of things. She gave him a list; there’s everything from toilet water to talcum.”
“Suppose I refuse to send them?”
“You can, of course. But you won’t, will you?”
“No, I suppose not. I shan’t coerce her. But it’s rather a strange thing for her to be willing to trust all this to your brother. She has seen him only once.”
“Well,” said Jane, with some spirit, “you’ve seen Baldy only once, and wouldn’t you trust him?”
She flung the challenge at him, and quite surprisingly he found himself saying, “Yes, I would.”
“Well,” said Jane, “of course.”
He leaned back in his chair and looked at her. Again he was aware of quickened emotions. She revived half-forgotten ardors. Gave him back his youth. She used none of the cut and dried methods of sophistication. She was fearless, absolutely alive, and in spite of her cheap gray suit, altogether lovely.
So it was with an air of almost romantic challenge that he said, “What would you advise?”
[100]“I’d let her alone, like little Bo-Peep. She’ll come home before you know it, Mr. Towne.”
“I wish that I could think it—however, it’s a great comfort to know that she’s safe. I shall give it out that she is visiting friends, and that I’ve heard from her. And now, about the things she wants. It seems absolutely silly to send them.”
“I don’t think it’s silly.”
“Why not?”
“Oh, clothes make such a lot of difference to a woman. I can absolutely change my feelings by changing my frock.”
“What kind of feelings do you have when you wear gray?”
“Cool and comfortable ones—do you know the delightful things that are gray? Pussy-willows, and sea-gulls, and rainy days—and oh, a lot of things”—she surveyed him thoughtfully, “and old Sheffield, and—well, I can’t think of everything.” She rose. “I’ll leave the list with you and you can telephone Baldy when to come for them.”
“Don’t go. I want to talk to you.”
“But you’re busy.”
“Not unless I want to be.”
“But I am. I have to go to market——”
“Briggs can take you over. I’ll call up the garage.”
“Briggs! Can you imagine Briggs driving through the streets of Washington with a pound of sausa............