"Any man darker than I will have a touch of the tar brush."
"Perhaps you have a bit yourself. Remember, an ancestress of yours came from Port Royal, Jamaica. I have often suspected the worst."
This joking always amused him so much that when en route to Africa the year before I had written him saying that it was with delightful anticipations I neared the home of his ancestors. That letter brought the query, "Which, monkeys or blacks?" To which I replied that they would be "high monkey-monks of some kind."
Much as he enjoyed this chaffing with me, T—— Bey stuck somewhat in his throat when I joked about him. Accustomed to his habit of non-interference—for, as he remarked, "Dogs can be trained, but cats have to have their own way in everything"—I was amazed when he said:—
"If you don't mind, and can see your way to it, I would rather you did not go alone to restaurants with T—— Bey."
"Of course not if you prefer," was my immediate reply. It was a trivial matter, too unimportant for discussion. An hour later, however, when going into the Ritz for tea with some friends from the country, I found T—— Bey was included. That was quite all right. What was not so was the fact, that while tea was being served an urgent telephone call made it necessary for my friends to leave at once. T—— Bey and I were left alone having our tea together. To get up and go, no matter what the excuse, would have been an insult. There was nothing to do but to remain and explain the circumstances afterward to Mr. Saltus. That explanation was never given or asked. As we were finishing our tea Mr. Saltus walked into the room, saw us, and coming forward smiling with outstretched hand asked if he might join us. This he did, chatting all the time as delightfully as he could. Being asked by T—— Bey if he knew I was in the Ritz, he answered lightly, but with an underlying meaning:—
"My intuitions about Mrs. Saltus are uncanny. If she has as much as a headache I know it. If she is perplexed I feel it, and if she is vexed with me without giving a sign of it, her vibrations tear me to pieces and I cannot endure it."
On the way home I started to tell him how it had all come about, but he stopped me short.
"Leave explanations to strangers,—love understands. That you were there after what you said this morning, is in itself proof that it was accidental."
He would not listen to a word and the subject dropped then and there. It was perhaps because of his laxity in this respect that my regard for truth was adamant. It was in consequence characteristic of Mr. Saltus to avoid any discussion with me in which I might be forced to ask:—