Mr. Temple Barholm removed his leg from the arm of his chair and got up. Long-legged, sinewy, but somewhat slouchy in his badly made tweed suit, sharp New York face and awful American style notwithstanding, he still looked rather nice as he laid his hand on his valet's shoulder and gave him a friendly push.
“See here,” he said. “What you've got to say to Rose is that she's just got to cut that sort of thing out—cut it right out. Talking to a man that's in love with her as if he was likely to throw her down because lies were told. Tell her to forget it—forget it quick. Why, what does she suppose a man's FOR, by jinks? What's he FOR?”
“I've told her that, sir, though of course not in American. I just swore it on my knees in Hyde Park one night when she got out for an hour. But she laid her poor head on the back of the bench and cried and wouldn't listen. She says she cares for me too much to—”
Tembarom's hand clutched his shoulder. His face lighted and glowed suddenly.
“Care for you too much,” he asked. “Did she say that? God bless her!”
“That's what I said,” broke in Pearson.
“I heard another girl say that—just before I left New York—a girl that's just a wonder,” said his master. “A girl can be a wonder, can't she?”
“Rose is, sir,” protested Pearson. “She is, indeed, sir. And her eyes are that blue—”
“Blue, are they?” interrupted Tembarom. “I know the kind. I'm on to the whole thing. And what's more, I'm going to fix it. You tell Rose—and tell her from me—that she's going to leave that place, and you're going to stay in this one, and—well, presently things'll begin to happen. They're going to be all right—ALL RIGHT,” he went on, with immensely convincing emphasis. “She's going to have that little home of her own.” He paused a moment for reflection, and then a sudden thought presented itself to him. “Why, darn it!” he exclaimed, “there must be a whole raft of little homes that belong to me in one place or another. Why couldn't I fix you both up in one of them?”
“Oh, sir!” Pearson broke forth in some slight alarm. He went so fast and so far all in a moment. And Pearson really possessed a neat, well-ordered conscience, and, moreover, “knew his place.” “I hope I didn't seem to be expecting you to trouble yourself about me, sir. I mustn't presume on your kindness.”