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me with that detestable nick-name she
has used since I wore rompers. "Aren't you trying for a record or
something? This is twice you've called on me this month."
"Mary, I'm in trouble."
"Is the poor 'ittle boy in trouble and come to Auntie Mary to tell her all
about it?" she sing-songed, making a little moue, as though she was
talking to her pet cat.
"Cut it, Mary!" I said. "I'm really in trouble."
"What is it, Bupps?"
"Helen ran off with Frank Woods to-day."
"Heavens, Bupps!"--she was serious enough now.--"Where did they
go?"
"They went, but they came back. Helen's home with Jim. They tried to
force him to give Helen a divorce. There was an awful fight and Woods
swore that he would kill Jim unless he let Helen go. But put on your hat
and coat and get your things. Helen needs you with her. I'll tell you the
rest on the way over."
"I'll be with you in a second," she called, running up-stairs.
When Mary was snuggled down beside me in the car--and she does
snuggle the best of any girl I ever knew--I told her everything, not
forgetting the part where I wrenched the gun away from Woods.
"Goodness, Bupps! I bet you were scared," she commented, her eyes
twinkling.
"Frankly, I didn't know what I was doing, or I would never have had
the nerve," I laughed. "But, lord! I feel sorry for Jim."
Mary's face clouded over.

"So do I, Bupps, but any one could have seen it coming. Jim was too
good to her. As much as I like Helen, I will say that the only kind of
husband she deserves is a brute who would beat her. That's the only
kind she can love. I was with her the night before her wedding, and she
confessed then that if Jim were only cruel or indifferent to her, just
once, she thought she could love him to death. The only reason Helen
cares for you and me, was because we never paid any particular
attention to her when she acted up and pouted. That is why she is mad
about Frank Woods. When he came to Eastbrook, he treated her as
though she didn't exist."
"And if Jim were cruel to her now, do you think she would go back to
him?" I asked.
Mary shook her head. "No, it's different now. If Jim were cruel to her,
she would probably hate him all the more for it."
"Proving the incomprehensibility of woman," I jeered.
"Proving the flumdability of flapdoodle," Mary responded. "If you men
only put one little thought into giving a woman what she wants, instead
of giving her what you think she ought to want; if you kept as
up-to-date in your love-making as you do in your law practise, women
wouldn't be the incomprehensible riddle you always make them out to
be."
"Well, why don't you tell us what you want?" I asked.
"Silly! That would spoil it all, don't you see? Besides we aren't sure just
what we want ourselves."
My spirits, which had risen considerably during our conversation,
dropped with a slump when Jim's big house loomed up ahead. Already,
something of the unhappiness within seemed to have added a more
somber touch to the outside. Have you noticed how you can tell from
the face of a house what kind of life the inhabitants lead? Happiness or
misery, health or sickness, riches or poverty all show as though the
walls were saturated from the admixture of life within.

I sent Mary up-stairs to see Helen, while I went into the drawing-room
in search of Jim, but there was no one there except Wicks, the butler,
who was lighting a fire, for, though it was only the last of September,
the nights were chilly. I snatched up the evening paper to see if by any
chance a hint of the scandal had crept into print. I felt sure that, as
matters stood, they would not dare to put in anything definite, but The
Sun has a nasty way of writing all around a scandal, so that, while the
persons involved are readily recognized, they are quite helpless as far
as redress is concerned.
I noticed that Wicks had taken an infernally long time to start the fire.
Although it was burning merrily, he still puttered about, brushing up
the chips and rearranging the blower and tongs. When Wicks hangs
about he usually has a question on his mind that he wants answered,
and he takes that means of letting you know it. I decided not to notice
him but to force him to come out in the open and ask, for once, a
straightforward question. From the fire, he moved to the table and
straightened the