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 assured 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 glasses, 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 anticipated 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."