They had reached the house, and Pete was fishing in his pocket for his keys. “Do you think Mr. Lanley is a snob?” he asked. As usual Mrs. Wayne evaded the direct answer. “I got an unfavorable impression of him this afternoon.” “For failing to see that I was a king among men?” “For backing up every stupid thing his daughter said.” “Loyalty is a fine quality.” “Justice is better,” answered his mother. “Oh, well, he’s old,” said Wayne, dismissing the whole subject. They walked up their four flights in silence, and then Wayne remembered to ask something that had been in his mind several times. “By the way, Mother, how did you happen to come to the Farrons at all?” She laughed rather self-consciously. “I hoped perhaps Mr. Farron might be well enough to see me a moment about Marty. The truth is, Pete, Mr. Farron is the real person in that whole family.” That evening he wrote Farron a note, asking him to see him the next morning at half-past ten about “this trouble of which, of course, Mrs. Farron has told you.” He added a request that he would tell Pringle of his intention in case he could give the interview, because Mrs. Farron had been quite frank in saying that she would give orders not to let him in. Farron received this note with his breakfast. Adelaide was not there. He had had no hint from her of any crisis. He had not come down to dinner the evening before to meet Mrs. Baxter and the useful people asked to entertain her, but he had seen Mathilde’s tear-stained face, and in a few minutes with his father-in-law had encountered one or two evident evasions. Only Adelaide had been unfathomable. After he had read the letter and thought over the situation, he sent for Pringle, and gave orders that when Mr. Wayne came he would see him. Pringle did not exactly make an objection, but stated a fact when he replied that Mrs. Farron had given orders that Mr. Wayne was not to be allowed to see Miss Severance. “Exactly,” said Farron. “Show him here.” Here was his own study. As it happened, Adelaide was sitting with him, making very good invalid’s talk, when Pringle announced, “Mr. Wayne.” “Pringle, I told you--” Adelaide began, but her husband cut her short. “He has an appointment with me, Adelaide.” “You don’t understand, Vin. You mustn’t see him.” Wayne was by this time in the room. “But I wish to see him, my dear Adelaide, and,” Farron added, “I wish to see him alone.” “No,” she answered, with a good deal of excitement; “that you cannot. This is my affair, Vincent--the affair of my child.” He looked at her for a second, and then opening the door into his bedroom, he said to Wayne: “Will you come in here?” The door was closed behind the two men. Wayne was not a coward, although he had dreaded his interview with Adelaide; it was his very respect for Farron that kept him from feeling even nervous. “Perhaps I ought not to have asked you to see me,” he began.