“Well,” said the gentleman, “I will come around again about six o’clock. Much obliged to you, ma’am, for your information. I hope my nephew has got a good wife.”
“Oh, she’s a fine woman,” said Mrs. Liloquist, “and very clever. She works every day at something or other. She’s the kind of a wife for a poor man, and I judge from what your nephew says that they would have hard work getting along if she didn’t do something to help.”
Clarence was surprised late that afternoon to have another visit from his father. Mr. Glynne, Sr., was accompanied by a stalwart gentleman with a marked professional aspect.
“So you’ve got back again, father,” said Clarence, not suspecting the turn which affairs had taken. “Have you found any clue?”
“Plenty of them,” said his father, sternly. “I know the whole business. Come into the private office with me, and you, Mr. Lake,” he said, turning to his companion, “sit down and wait for us.”
When they were alone together the expression on Mr. Thomas Glynne’s face changed from one of assumed serenity to one of the deepest malignity.
“Clarence Glynne,” said his father, “I told you this morning that you were an infernal fool; now I know that you are an infernal liar. You have been deceiving me for years. You are a married man, and that is the reason why you have refused to marry my ward.”
Clarence sank into a chair. Oh, if Jennie were only there to help him!
“I am going to make short work of this. Do you know who that man is in the other room?”
Clarence shook his head.