Behind his back Terry came to his defense. She would hear and believe no wrong of him. This only proved to her parents that her heart still followed him. They thought her very brave and became more gloomy in their accusations. Matters took a serious turn: her health began to fail. When the doctor was summoned, he ascribed the cause to secret worrying and prescribed a complete change. Tabs received no word of this happening, for Terry had become increasingly shy, so that she created the appearance of avoiding him. She quite definitely avoided Maisie.
There came a day in early June when he went to call on her and was informed by the velvet-plush James that Miss Terry was out of London on a visit of undetermined length. When he asked for her address, James shook his head mournfully. She had been ill and was to be spared all disturbing communications. His orders were that her address was to be given to nobody.
"But that order doesn't apply to me," Tabs urged.
James became more profoundly agitated. He averted his eyes, while he fiddled with the last button of his plump waistcoat. "I regret to say, to your Lordship most especially."
"Humph!" Tabs stroked his chin. "Is Sir Tobias at home?"
"Your Lordship would gain nothing by seeing Sir Tobias."
"You might mention to him that I called." With that he descended the steps and climbed into his runabout.
"Turned away!" he thought. "Turned away from Terry's house!" Then his mind went back to two months ago—the hopes he'd had, his meeting with her at the station, his asking her father for her hand in marriage. It was like the old front-line trench, when reënforcements had failed to come up: there was nothing for it but to dig one's self in and stick it out.
He had been shown the door with as little ceremony as an intruding peddler.