“Because you and Billy thought he was incompetent, and it didn’t seem worth the trouble to correct you.”
“I’m sure I’ve always thought him very kind, especially to Peter.”
“Kind! What’s kindness got to do with being clever?” Nan pressed Jehane to stay to dinner. She would send a telegram to Ocky; she would send her home in a cab. But Jehane was in an ungracious mood and eager to take offense. She resented the implication that a cab was a luxury. No, she couldn’t stay; there was too much to do. She had intended to return in a cab, anyhow. In reality she was anxious to avoid Barrington’s shrewd questioning. She was rising to take her departure, when she saw him descending the garden steps.
“Ha, Jehane! This is luck. I’ve had thoughts of you all day. That letter’s got on my nerves. I couldn’t work; so I came home early.—Oh no, we’re not going to let you off now. You’ve got to stop and tell us. By the way, before Ocky actually decides, I’d like to talk the whole matter over with him.”
“He’s decided already.”
“You don’t mean———-”
“Yes. Why not? He’s given Wagstaff notice. Things so happened that he had to make up his mind in a hurry or lose it.—But I really ought to be going. Nan knows everything now.”
Barrington placed his hand on her shoulder arrestingly. At his touch she drew back and colored. “This thing’s too serious, Jehane,” he said, “to be dismissed in a sentence. I have a right to know.”
He spoke kindly, but she answered him hotly. “What right, pray?”
“Well, if anything goes wrong, there’s only me to fall back on. And then there’s the right of friendship.”