The maid who opened the door showed a reluctance to let Bailey in. Shesaid that Mrs. Porter was busy with her writing and had given ordersthat she was not to be disturbed.

　　Nothing could have infuriated Bailey more. He, Bailey Bannister, was tobe refused admittance because this preposterous woman wished to write!

　　It was the duty of all decent citizens to stop her writing. If it hadnot been for her and her absurd books Ruth would never have made itnecessary for him to pay this visit at all.

　　"Kindly take my card to Mrs. Porter and tell her that I must see her atonce on a matter of the utmost urgency," he directed.

　　The domestic workers of America had not been trained to stand upagainst Bailey's grand manner. The maid vanished meekly with the card,and presently returned and requested him to step in.

　　Bailey found himself in a comfortable room, more like a man's studythan a woman's boudoir. Books lined the walls. The furniture was strongand plain. At the window, on a swivel-chair before a roll-top desk,Mrs. Porter sat writing, her back to the door.

　　"The gentleman, ma'am," announced the maid.

　　"Sit down," said his aunt, without looking round or ceasing to write.

　　The maid went out. Bailey sat down. The gentle squeak of the quill pencontinued.

　　Bailey coughed.

　　"I have called this morning----"The left hand of the writer rose and waggled itself irritably above herleft shoulder.

　　"Aunt Lora," spoke Bailey sternly.

　　"Shish!" said the authoress. Only that and nothing more. Bailey,outraged, relapsed into silence. The pen squeaked on.

　　After what seemed to Bailey a considerable time, the writing ceased. Itwas succeeded by the sound of paper vigorously blotted. Then, withstartling suddenness, Mrs. Porter whirled round on the swivel-chair,tilted it back, and faced him.

　　"Well, Bailey?" she said.

　　She looked at Bailey. Bailey looked at her. Her eyes had the curiouseffect of driving out of his head what he had intended to say.

　　"Well?" she said again.

　　He tried to remember the excellent opening speech which he had preparedin the cab.

　　"Good gracious, Bailey!" cried Mrs. Porter, "you have not come here andruined my morning's work for the pleasure of looking at me surely? Saysomething."Bailey found his voice.

　　"I have called to see Ruth, who, I am informed, is with you.""She is in her room. I made her breakfast in bed. Is there any messageI can give her?"Bailey suddenly remembered the speech he had framed in the cab.

　　"Aunt Lora," he said, "I am sorry to have to intrude upon you at soearly an hour, but it is imperative that I see Ruth and ask her toexplain the meaning of a most disturbing piece of news that has come tomy ears."Mrs. Porter did not appear to have heard him.