Of the little band of revellers it would be hard to say which was themost taken aback at this invasion. The excitement of the moment hadkept them from hearing the sound of the automobile which Mrs. Porter,mistrusting the rough road that led to the shack, had stopped somedistance away.

　　Perhaps, on the whole, Kirk was more surprised than either of hiscompanions. Their guilty consciences had never been quite free from theidea of the possibility of pursuit; but Kirk, having gathered fromMamie that neither Ruth nor her aunt was aware of what had happened,had counted upon remaining undisturbed till the time for return came onthe morrow.

　　He stood staring at Ruth, who had followed Mrs. Porter into the room.

　　Mrs. Porter took charge of the situation. She was in her element. Shestood with one hand resting on the table as if she were about to makean after-dinner speech--as indeed she was.

　　Lora Delane Porter was not dissatisfied with the turn events had taken.

　　On the whole, perhaps, it might be said that she was pleased. Sheintended, when she began to speak, to pulverize Kirk and the abandonedyoung woman whom he had selected as his partner in his shamefulescapade, but in this she was swayed almost entirely by a regard forabstract morality.

　　As concerned Ruth, she felt that the situation was, on the whole, thebest thing that could have happened. To her Napoleonic mind, which tooklittle account of the softer emotions, concerning itself entirely withthe future of the race, Kirk had played his part and was now laggingsuperfluous on the stage. His tendency, she felt, was to retard ratherthan to assist William Bannister's development. His influence, such asit was, clashed with hers. She did not forget that there had been atime when Ruth, having practically to choose between them, had chosento go Kirk's way and had abandoned herself to a life which could onlybe considered unhygienic and retrograde. Her defeat in the matter ofWhiskers, the microbe-harbouring dog from Ireland, still rankled.

　　It was true that in what might be called the return match she hadutterly routed Kirk; but until this moment she had always been aware ofhim as an opponent who might have to be reckoned with. She was quiteconvinced that it would be in the best interests of everybody,especially of William Bannister, if he could be eliminated. There weresigns of human weakness in Ruth which sometimes made her uneasy. Ruth,she told herself, might "bear the torch," but when it came to "notfaltering" she was less certain of her.

　　Ruth, it was true, had behaved admirably in the matter of theupbringing of William from the moment of her conversion till now,but might she not at any moment become a backslider and fill thewhite-tiled nursery with abominable long-haired dogs? Most certainlyshe might. In a woman who had once been a long-haired dogist there arealways possibilities of a relapse into long-haired dogism, just as in aconverted cannibal there are always possibilities of a return to thegods of wood and stone and the disposition to look on his fellow-manpurely in the light of breakfast-food.

　　For these reasons Mrs. Porter was determined to push home her presentadvantage, to wipe Kirk off the map as an influence in Ruth's life. Itwas her intention, having recovered William Bannister and bathed himfrom head to foot in a weak solution of boric acid, to stand over Ruthwhile she obtained a divorce. That done, she would be in a position todefy Kirk and all his antagonistic views on the subject of the hygienicupbringing of children.

　　She rapped the table and prepared to speak.

　　Even a Napoleon, however, may err from lack of sufficient information;and there was a flaw in her position of which she was unaware. From thebeginning of the drive to the end of it Ruth had hardly spoken a word,and Mrs. Porter, in consequence, was still in ignorance of what hadbeen happening that day in Wall Street and the effect of thesehappenings on her niece's outlook on life. Could she have known it, thesilent girl beside her had already suffered the relapse which she hadfeared as a remote possibility.

　　Ruth's mind during that drive had been in a confusion of regrets anddoubts and hopes. There were times when she refused absolutely tobelieve the story of Kirk's baseness which her aunt poured into her earduring the first miles of the journey. It was absurd and incredible.

　　Yet, as they raced along the dark roads, doubt came to her and wouldnot be driven out.

　　A single unfortunate phrase of Kirk's, spoken in haste, but rememberedat leisure, formed the basis of this uncertainty. That afternoon whenhe had left her he had said that Mamie was the real mother of thechild. Could it be that Mamie's undeviating devotion to the boy had wonthe love which she had lost? It was possible. Considered in the lightof what Mrs. Porter had told her, it seemed, in her blackest moments,certain.

　　She knew how wrapped up in the boy Kirk had been. Was it not a logicaloutcome of his estrangement from herself that he should have turned forconsolation to the one person in sympathy with him in his great lovefor his child?

　　She tried to read his face as he stood looking at her now, but shecould find no hope in it. The eyes that met hers were cold andexpressionless.

　　Mrs. Porter rapped the table a second time.

　　"Mr. Winfield," she said in the metallic voice with which she was wontto cow publishers insufficiently equipped with dash and enterprise inthe matter of advertising treatises on the future of the race, "I haveno doubt you are surprised to see us. You appear to be looking yourwife in the face. It speaks well for your courage but badly for yoursense of shame. If you had the remnants of decent feeling in you, youwould be physically incapable of the feat. If you would care to knowhow your conduct strikes an unprejudiced spectator, I may tell you thatI consider you a scoundrel of the worst type and unfit to associatewith any but the low company in which I find you."Steve, who had been listening with interest, and indeed, a certainrelish while Kirk was, as he put it to himself, "getting his" in thisspirited fashion, started at the concluding words of the address,which, in his opinion, seemed slightly personal. He had long ago madeup his mind that Lora Delane Porter, though an entertaining woman and,on the whole, more worth while than a moving-picture show, was quitemad; but, he felt, even lunatics ought to realize that there is a limitto what they may say.

　　He moaned protestingly, and rashly, for he drew the speaker's attentionupon himself.

　　"This person," went on Mrs. Porter, indicating Steve with a wave of herhand which caused him to sidestep swiftly and throw up an arm, as hadbeen his habit in the ring when Battling Dick or Fighting Jackendeavoured to blot him out with a right swing, "who, I observe,retains the tattered relics of a conscience, seeing that he winces, youemployed to do the only dangerous part of your dirty work. I hope hewill see that he gets his money. In his place I should be feelinguneasy.""Ma'am!" protested Steve.

　　Mrs. Porter silenced him with a gesture.

　　"Be quiet!" she said.

　　Steve was quiet.

　　Mrs. Porter returned to Kirk.

　　Of all her burning words, Kirk had not heard one. His eyes had neverleft Ruth's. Like her, he was trying to read a message from a face thatseemed only cold. In this crisis of their two lives he had no thoughtfor anybody but her. He had a sense of great issues, of being on theverge of the tremendous; but his brain felt numbed and heavy. He couldnot think. He could see nothing except her eyes.

　　His inattention seemed to communicate itself to Mrs. Porter. She rappedimperatively upon the table............