“But she MUST know, Corinne. I never have any secrets from Ruth, and don't you have any either. Ruth couldn't be anything but kind to you and she never misunderstands, and she is so helpful. Here she is. Ruth, dear, we were just waiting for you. Corinne is nervous and depressed, and imagines all sorts of things, one of which is that we don't care for her: and I've just told her that we do?” Ruth looked into Jack's eyes as if to get his meaning--she must always get her cue from him now--she was entirely unconscious of the cause of it all, or why Corinne should feel so, but if Jack thought Corinne was suffering and that she wanted comforting, all she had was at Corinne's and Jack's disposal. With a quick movement she leaned forward and laid her hand on Corinne's shoulder. “Why, you dear Corinne,--Jack and I are not like that. What has gone wrong,--tell me,” she urged. For a brief instant Corinne made no answer. Once she tried to speak but the words died in her throat. Then, lifting up her hands appealingly, she faltered out: “I only said that I--Oh, Ruth!--I am so wretched!” and sank back on the lounge in an agony of tears. CHAPTER XXVI At ten o'clock that same night Jack went to the station to meet Garry. He and Ruth had talked over the strange scene--unaccountable to both of them--and had determined that Jack should see Garry at once. “I must help him, Ruth, no matter at what cost. Garry has been my friend for years; he has been taken up with his work, and so have I, and we have drifted apart a little, but I shall never forget him for his kindness to me when I first came to New York. I would never have known Uncle Peter but for Garry, or Aunt Felicia, or--you, my darling.” Jack waited under the shelter of the overhanging roof until the young architect stepped from the car and crossed the track. Garry walked with the sluggish movement of a tired man--hardly able to drag his feet after him. “I thought I'd come down to meet you, Garry,” Jack cried in his old buoyant tone. “It's pretty rough on you, old fellow, working so hard.” Garry raised his head and peered into the speaker's face. “Why, Jack!” he exclaimed in a surprised tone; the voice did not sound like Garry's. “I didn't see you in the train. Have you been in New York too?” He evidently understood nothing of Jack's explanation. “No, I came down to meet you. Corinne was at Mr. MacFarlane's to-day, and said you were not well,--and so I thought I'd walk home with you.” “Oh, thank you, old man, but I'm all right. Corinne's nervous;--you mustn't mind her. I've been up against it for two or three weeks now,--lot of work of all kinds, and that's kept me a good deal from home. I don't wonder Cory's worried, but I can't help it--not yet.”