A look of quick understanding drove away the smile she had brought him, and her manner was one of grave sympathy as she took the letter he handed her. She was clad in a crisp morning gown he had never seen, and he thought it became her extremely well. She looked very cool, very fresh, very much the fine lady. All in all, she seemed a person whose friendly interest might compensate for many woes. "Well!" she remarked. "You do seem to be in trouble. What does it mean?" Kirk told her everything without reserve, then showed her the newspapers in his hand. She scrutinized them with a quiet seriousness that seemed to make his trouble her own. "After all," she said at last, "if worse comes to worst, you can prove your innocence." "I'm not so sure." "Nonsense! Those boys can be found. What puzzles me is that Locke person. Who is he? Why was he followed? What has become of him?" "I wish I knew." "I can have inquiries made, but it will take time. Meanwhile, it seems you are safe, so the one important fact for the moment is that you are cast off." Turning her bright eyes upon him, she inquired, "How does it feel to be disinherited?" "Blamed uncomfortable! I must tell Mr. Cortlandt at once." "Let me," she offered, quickly. "I would not show any one that letter, if I were you, nor advertise the fact that you are in danger of arrest. It will be quite enough if I tell him that you have quarrelled with your father--he is a peculiar man." Kirk signified his agreement. "Now what do you intend doing?" she asked him. "I'm going to work." "Good! Good!" She clapped her hands gleefully. "Oh, I don't WANT to," he protested, "but the old gentleman thinks I'm no good, and I'd like to show him he's wrong. After I've done that, I intend to loaf again--yes, and I'll know how to loaf by that time. Of course, I'll have to pay my debts, too." "Poor Mr. Weeks!" "Why poor?" "He is terribly agitated to learn that we came to your rescue. He knows now that he really entertained an angel unaware, and his grief of soul is comical." "Weeks isn't such a bad sort." But her eyes showed a sudden flash of anger as she returned: "He deserves to be forced out of the service." "That wouldn't do any good. His successor might be worse." "Haven't you any resentment? I dislike placid people!" "Plenty! If I get a crack at Alfarez---" "Now don't allow your mind to dwell on that," she cautioned. "I think he is riding to a fall, as it is. What do you want to do?" "Anything. I'm going to hunt a job this afternoon." "What sort?" "Something with big pay and no responsibility." "Those positions are taken--by the army," she laughed. "What can you do?" "I can take an automobile apart." "And put it together again?" "Oh no! I can sail a boat; I shoot pretty well; I waltz nicely; I row, swim, and box indifferently; and I play an atrocious hand at poker." Mrs. Cortlandt nodded gravely. "You are also good company, you dress well, and you are an ornament to any hotel porch."