The mere idea brought Marjorie up all standing; only to sink back again with a groan, appalled at the possibility. Honest Tom, with his high standards of rectitude, in love with a girl whose perception of the laws governing _meum_ and _tuum_ was so blunted, spelled tragedy. Marjorie dismissed the thought with a shudder, and her mind reverted to another puzzling phase of the situation: Calhoun-Cooper, by speech, and Tom, by look, had implied she was responsible for the loss and return of the bracelet. Who had.... “For once I’ve caught you napping!” teased a voice, and Marjorie jerked herself erect, to find Chichester Barnard standing looking down at her. The laughter in his eyes gave way to concern at sight of her face. “My darling, what is it?” he questioned, alarmed. “Nothing”--then seeing his disbelief, she added, “Nothing that would interest you....” “But everything that concerns you, interests me,” he protested. “What is troubling you?” “A matter of no moment,” speaking more briskly. “What brought you here this morning?” “To be quite frank I called to see Janet Fordyce,” he replied brusquely, nettled by her manner. “I prefer you when you are candid....” “Are you trying to pick a quarrel with me?” “Is that so difficult a thing to do?” insolently. “If you mean I swallow every----” Barnard stopped, controlling his aroused anger with difficulty. “Come, come,” he said more mildly. “It is a waste of time for us to bandy words.” He held out his hands with the charming smile which had won many a friend for him. “Let’s kiss and--forget.” Marjorie made no move to take his extended hand. “Who let you in?” she asked. “The footman.” Barnard paced rapidly up and down before the chimney-piece, then seated himself by Marjorie’s side. “Don’t treat me as an outsider,” he pleaded. “I have always your best interests at heart; let me share your worries as well as your pleasures. I’ll do anything in the world for you, Madge, anything”--and his voice shook with the strength of his passion. Marjorie hesitated; her distrust controlling her impulse to confide her perplexities to the man who, only six short weeks before, had absorbed her mind and, as she thought, her heart. “You are very kind,” she began formally. The conventional words somewhat chilled Barnard’s ardor, but his offended expression went unnoticed as Marjorie again hesitated. “What did Mrs. Calhoun-Cooper say to you about the loss of her necklace?” she asked finally. Barnard smiled wryly. “It would be easier to tell you what she left unsaid--she only exhausted her vocabulary as we reached her house, and even then Pauline had to caution her to be quiet before the servants.” “An impossible woman!” “With a still more impossible family,” impatiently. “Did you notice Joe’s manner to his mother when she called him into her box at the ball last night?” “No; but did you see who was with him?”