When he arrived at the Story home the Judge was upstairs in his study. Jean, alone in the parlor, looked up in surprise at his expressed intention to see her father. Since her letter they had never been alone. Stover had avoided it with his shrinking from sympathy, and, perhaps guessing his temperament, she had made no attempt to go beyond the safe boundaries of formal intercourse.
"Yes, indeed, Dad's upstairs," she said. Then she added a little anxiously: "You look serious—is it a very serious matter?"
He hesitated, knowing instinctively that she would oppose him.
"It's something that's been on my mind for a long time," he said evasively; and he added with a smile, "It's what you call my Quixotic fit."
"It's about Skull and Bones," she said instantly.
"Yes, it is."
"What are you going to say?"
"I'm going to tell him just where I stand—just what I've come to believe about the whole business."
"And what's that?"