It was Nellie Pennington who had prevailed upon Phil Gallatin to accept Mrs. Dorsey-Martin’s invitation, for she knew that Jane Loring was staying at “Mobjack,” the Ledyards’ place, and she hoped that she might yet be the means of bringing the two together. Her interview with Phil had been barren of results, except to confirm her in the suspicion that Nina Jaffray held the key to the puzzle. Nina, who had been one of the early arrivals at “Clovelly,” had so far eluded all her snares; and Nellie Pennington was now convinced that here was a foeman worthy of her subtlest metal. She enjoyed the game hugely, as, apparently, did Nina, and their passages at arms were as skillful (and as ineffectual) as those of two perfectly matched maîtres d’escrime. Nina knew that Nellie Pennington suspected her of mischief, but she also knew that it was unlikely that any one would ever know, unless from Jane, just what that mischief had been.
The arrival of Phil Gallatin, while it gave Nina happiness, made her keep a narrower guard against the verbal thrusts of her playful adversary.
Phil Gallatin had regained his poise and reached “Clovelly” in a jubilant frame of mind. Two days ago Henry K. Loring had agreed to a conference.
Mr. Leuppold, more suave, more benign, more patronizing than ever, had called and told Gallatin of this noteworthy act of condescension on the part of his client. Nothing, of course, need be expected from such a meeting in the way of concessions, but men of the world like Mr. Leuppold and Mr. Gallatin knew that co-operation was, after all, the soul of business, and that one caught many more flies with treacle than with vinegar.
He continued for half an hour in this vein, platitudinizing and begging the question at issue while Gallatin listened and assented politely, without giving any further intimation of a course of action for Kenyon, Hood and Gallatin. But when the great lawyer had departed, Gallatin went to the window and surveyed the steel gray waters of the Hudson with a gleaming eye, and his face wore a smile which would not depart. Sanborn’s case would never go to court.
The vestiges of this good humor still remained upon his face and in his demeanor all the morning, which had been spent in a run with the Warrenton pack. It was so long since he had ridden to hounds that he had almost forgotten the joy of it, but he was well mounted and finished creditably. Nina Jaffray showed the field her heels for most of the way and Gallatin pounded after her, his muscles aching, determined not to be outridden by a woman.
In the first check, she drew her horse alongside of his and smiled at him.
“Ready to let me announce it yet, Phil?” she asked.
Gallatin just then was wondering whether his leg grip would last out the day.
“Announce what, Nina?” he asked.