"That will be good. His friends will make it right with you."

"_Ach!_ Do not say so!"

The German shook his head in deprecation of the idea that he wished any return for his services. Meantime his long-legged, towheaded son had come from within and stood gaping behind his father.

"Vill you go back to _der_ man _mit_ me?" asked the German.

"No," said Orme.

"So? Vell, all right."

"I'm sorry I can't wait," said Orme. "I've done what I could, and I have a long way to go."

"Sure! Dat's all right!"

"Then thank you very much. Good-night."

Orme walked briskly to the road and turned west. He felt a.s.sured that Arima would be looked after.

Following the road to the first crossing, he turned to the right. In a few minutes he saw the lights of the clubhouse, and a little later he stepped upon the veranda.

Many people were seated in the comfortable porch chairs. The charms of the summer evening had held them after their afternoon of play. And from one of the groups came the sound of a voice--a man's voice--which Orme found vaguely familiar. He could not place it, however, and he quickly forgot it in his general impression of the scene.

In this atmosphere of gayety he felt strangely out of place. Here all was chatter and froth--the activity of the surface-joy of living; but he had stepped into it fresh from a series of events that had uncovered the inner verities.

Here the ice tinkled in cool gla.s.ses, and women laughed happily, and every one was under the spell of the velvety summer evening; but he had looked into the face of Love and the face of Death--and both were still near to his heart.

He found a servant and asked for the Wallinghams.

"Mr. Wallingham has left, sir," said the man, "but Mrs. Wallingham is here."

"Ask her if Mr. Orme may speak to her."

He smiled rather grimly as the servant departed, for he antic.i.p.ated Bessie's laughing accusations.

And presently she came, an admonishing finger upheld.

"Robert--Orme," she exclaimed, "how dare you show your face now?"

"I couldn't help it, Bessie. Honest, I couldn't. I must ask you to forgive and forget."

"That's a hard request, Bob. You have broken two engagements in one day--and one of them for dinner. But never mind. I have a weakness that I acquired from Tom--I mean the weakness of believing in you. Go ahead and explain yourself."

"It would take too long, Bessie. Please let me put it off."

"Until you can manage a good excuse? You want all the trumps."

"My explanation is all tangled up with other people's affairs. Where's Tom?"

"He went back to the city early--awfully sorry that he couldn't stay to have dinner with you. There is a committee or something this evening."

"Bessie, you know what I asked you over the telephone. Can you--can you help me?"

"What--_Now?_"

"Yes."

"Why, Bob, what's the matter with you? This is no time of day to make a call."

"It's very important, Bessie. It doesn't concern the young lady alone. I simply must be at her house within the next two hours."

She eyed him earnestly. "If you say that, Bob, I must believe you. And, of course, I'll help all I can."

Orme sighed his relief. "Thanks," he said.

She flashed a speculative glance at him.

"I'm sorry," he said, "that I can't tell you what it's all about. You'll just have to take my word for it."

"Have I asked you to tell me?"

"No, you marvel of womanhood. You are dying of curiosity, I don't doubt, but your restraint is superhuman."

Again she looked at him keenly. "Bob, you are dying of curiosity yourself. Don't you suppose I can see?"

"It's something harder than curiosity," said Orme simply.

"How eager are you!" She laughed. "Now, there is plenty of time. The trip won't take us more than half an hour; so come along and meet some friends of mine."

"Bessie--if you _could_ hurry----"

"We can't start until the car comes. I'm expecting it at any moment. So be good, and come along. There's such an interesting man--and very distinguished. We don't try to p.r.o.nounce his name. Just think, he was engaged for dinner here, also, and came too late. And ever since he arrived he's been called to the telephone at five-minute intervals. So exciting! n.o.body can guess what he's so busy about."

She threaded her way through the lively groups on the veranda, and reluctantly he followed. The voice which he had so nearly recognized sounded closer, then stopped with a curious little laugh that was loudly echoed by others.

Bessie broke in upon the lull that followed. "Excellency, may I present another man who missed his dinner?" she said saucily. "Mr. Orme."

The man addressed was sitting comfortably in a wicker chair that was several sizes too large for him. At the mention of Orme's name he got to his feet with startling alacrity.

"Mr.--_Orme_?" His surprise was unmistakable.

"Mr. Robert Orme," said Bessie.

Someone struck a match to light a cigar, and in the sudden light Orme found himself looking into the face of the j.a.panese minister.

"I think I have never met you before," said the minister slowly.

"I think not," replied Orme.