"Oh, I don't fear that I will regret New York," said Mabelle, letting her blue eyes dwell on Bill's ingenuous countenance for a throbbing moment. "Really, Jappie, there's nothing to regret." Bill's heart turned over twice. His face was appealing. He met Jap's dancing eyes defiantly. "Well," said Jap, "you might get the keys and show the cottage to Ag--Mabelle, and see how much enthusiasm it provokes. Perhaps it would make a better first impression by electric light. Here, put an extra bulb in your pocket, if one happens to be missing," and he drew out the table drawer, where many things lay hidden. Bill was helping Mabelle on with her coat, his well-set body charged with electricity that was strangely illuminating to Jap. As the two left the office, a few minutes later, a teasing voice called after them: "Remember, Bill, that you took on a pile of orders this evening, and we were loaded to the guards with job work already." CHAPTER XXIII Jap looked up as a shadow fell across the door of the composing room. "Well," he queried quizzically, "what about it?" "Well," Bill repeated, drawing the girl into the room after him, "Mabelle thinks that the cottage needs a bathroom and about a wagon load of plumbing, besides paint and paper. Otherwise, it's all right." Mabelle slipped past him and approached the case. Standing on tiptoe beside the high stool, she laid a hand coaxingly on the strong, angular shoulder. "Now, Jappie, boy, iron out that worry-frown. I am going to do the fixing up myself. It shan't cost you a cent." "No!" Jap exploded. "Now, dear boy, forget your pride. I have lots and lots of money, and this is to be my home." "The firm is not insolvent," suggested Bill. "It isn't a matter for the firm," Jap said gravely. "The cottage belongs to me, and we can't allow our finances to get mixed. I'm willing to have you put in all the repairs that I can afford." His mind reverted to Flossy, happy and clean without a bathroom. "Let me take a mortgage on the property for whatever the work costs," Mabelle pleaded, her lips puckering irresistibly. Jap descended from the stool and caught her in his arms. Somehow she had, all at once, become his baby sister again. The episode of the straw stack loomed before him. She had puckered her lips just like that when she fled to him for protection. With little coquettish touches, she slipped one arm around his neck, while she smoothed his red locks gently. Bill, looking on, was overcome by an unaccountable restlessness. "What a pity Isabel isn't home!" he blurted. And Bill never knew why he had recourse to Isabel at that moment. The observation bore the desired fruit. Mabelle freed herself from her brother's embrace, with the pained exclamation: "Isabel not at home! Oh, Jappie, I have just been waiting for you to tell me about her. Ever since we read in the paper--and the one little reference to her in your letter to Fanny----"