“Will you pass me the spinach, John, dear,” Nannie requested in a tone different from that in which she had previously spoken. * * * * * On the succeeding morning Nannie rose early to eat with John. Lucy dressed Dimmie for kindergarten and sent him downstairs but she herself did not appear for breakfast. John had hardly reached the office when the telephone rang. “Miss Storms wants to speak to you, John,” said Jim, who had answered the call. John took up the receiver. “Good morning, Miss Storms.” “Good morning, John. How did you leave Lucy this morning?” “Oh, she’s all right,” he responded after a moment’s hesitation. “I didn’t call up the house because I fancy Mrs. Merwent feels I am a sort of female Machiavelli.” Miss Storms laughed slightly. “I want to ask a favor, John. I am all tied up with engagements and can’t get down to your office. Can you come in for a few minutes this afternoon? I want to speak with you about something very important.” John thought an instant. “Yes,” he acceded. “Could you come about four o’clock?” “All right. Good-bye.” And he hung up the receiver. * * * * * Jim was silent all morning and seemed to be pondering something. When the two went out to luncheon together he unburdened himself. “John, don’t you think Lucy is looking badly?” he demanded suddenly. “I hadn’t noticed it,” John answered shortly. “She’s thinner and paler and looks terribly worried,” Jim persisted. John stared at his plate and made no reply. Jim was not to be discouraged. “See here, John. You and I have been pretty close together ever since we were small kids--and I doubt if there’s anyone in the world who has the welfare of you and Lucy more at heart than I have.” Jim paused before resuming his unwonted loquacity. John was still silent. “I’ve got something on my mind, John, and I hope you won’t be offended at what I say?” Jim hesitated questioningly. “I know you are in a hard place, and it’s a hard thing to say, but if you don’t do something radical, Lucy’s mother is going to play hell in your home.” Jim stopped and showed his embarrassment. “I hope you don’t think I’m meddling. I’ve thought a long time before saying anything, and I expect you’ve lost more sleep over it than I have.” “No, I’m not offended,” said John, flushing, “but I don’t think you understand the situation. It’s evident enough that you don’t like her.” “Don’t like Lucy?” Jim almost gasped. “Since when?” “Oh, I don’t doubt that you like Lucy,” returned John coldly. Jim set down his stein and motioned the waiter to bring his check. “I’m going down the street. I’ll be back to the office about three o’clock,” he volunteered, after paying the cashier, and he went off in a direction opposite to that taken by John. * * * * * John rang at Miss Storms’ apartment at four o’clock. “Come in, John,” she invited, opening the door.