So it seemed that, though the bodily presence of John Bagsbury could not interrupt him, the alert spirit of John Bagsbury was able to interfere quite as successfully. Dick went on to tell him what she knew, and all she had guessed, of John’s difficulties. At first Jack listened patiently, and waited for her to finish so that he could take the conversation back to where he wanted it; but never for long could he resist the spell of her enthusiasm,--he would take to mathematics to-morrow, if she should develop a sudden liking for cubic curves,--and soon he was asking eager questions, and hazarding wild speculations upon the probable course of events for the next two or three days. While they were talking, there came to Jack an idea that almost amounted to inspiration. It struck him so suddenly as to suspend his speech right in the middle of a sentence, and he gloated over it in silence, wondering why he had not thought sooner of a thing so obvious, so easy, and so entirely satisfactory. He would carry it out before trying again to tell Dick the rest of his interrupted love story. In the old days, when he had fancied that he loved her, the telling had been comparatively easy; but now that she had become a part of every breath he drew, he found the thought of telling her most formidable. He had hoped in these past few months that she was beginning to care in a way very different from her old friendly affection for him; but her behavior since Wednesday night had well-nigh swept that hope away. He must tell her, even though he was inviting certain defeat, and hazarding her friendship into the bargain. Yet, with the idea which had come to him a moment ago, there had arisen the hope that it might be, if he were to do something to prove himself of material assistance to John Bagsbury in his fight, that this might make a difference with Dick. It was worth a trial, anyway. His sudden preoccupation caused Dick to glance at him curiously once or twice; but for a little while she did not break in upon it. Then she asked:-- “Are your plans taking shape at all? I mean, have you any idea what you’ll go into after you leave the bank?” He roused himself sharply and said, with a laugh: “No, I think I’ll stay at the bank a while longer and collect material for a book. I mean to write a biography of Hillsmead, call it ‘Wit and Wisdom,’ or ‘The Hillsmead Joke Book.’” “How immensely funny that will be,” she said. Her tone was not encouraging to any further jocularity; but Jack had determined upon his course, and he held to it manfully; and, as best she could, Dick concealed her irritation. It was a relief to both of them when the Bagsburys came home.