"Thank you for that confidence," Edith said still smiling. Then she added enigmatically, "Whenever I accept a responsibility I always rise promptly to the emergency. In the present instance it requires careful consideration. Now, if you will excuse me I will take my morning constitutional."
Huntington was not sorry to have a few moments of solitary contemplation. Throwing away a half-smoked cigar, he drew his pipe from his pocket and filled it with his favorite mixture—unchanged since he first became acquainted with it at college. A cigarette represented to Huntington the casual inconsequence of youth, a cigar the aristocracy of smoking, a pipe that comfortable companionship which encourages relaxation and introspective thought. With the first whiff he pulled his hat down over his face, settled deep in his chair, and began to run over the events of the past few days. Huntington's mind was methodical if not always orderly, and his account of stock, when finally classified under the head of "responsibilities," summed up about as follows:
Responsibility 1: To keep peace with Connie, and yet persuade him against or frighten him out of his present assinine intentions.
Responsibility 2: To pull Hamlen out of the solitary life which he had affected, and to force him to assume that position in the world to which he rightly belonged.
Responsibility 3: To demonstrate to Mrs. Thatcher that her unmotherly idea of making restitution to Hamlen by throwing her daughter at his head was the product of an overwrought sentimentality rather than a rational suggestion.
Responsibility 4: To become sufficiently intimate with Merry, the direct or indirect occasion of the entire complication, to be able to judge as to the probable outcome of all the other responsibilities.
The sum total of his obligations appalled him, and he found himself proceeding in a mental circle, making no progress beyond the recapitulation. He was not displeased, therefore, when he found himself interrupted in his reveries by a bell-boy who stood before him, holding out a tray containing a telegram. He took it mechanically, wondering who had located him in this island retreat. Opening the yellow envelope he read the following message, sent by wireless from the "Arcadian":
"That Cosden person has slipped it over on me this time, but I depend on you to watch out for my interests with Merry. She is the one best bet. Don't let that antique vintage of 1875 annoy her with his attentions. I know I can trust you. Please cable money to me in New York care of Hotel Biltmore to pay for this message and other expenses to Cambridge.
Huntington groaned aloud as he twisted uncomfortably in his chair. "Another responsibility to add to the others!" he cried, "and I believed bachelor's life one of freedom and ease! If ever I get out of this mess I'll bury myself in some monastery, and let its cold grey walls protect me against the matrimonial madness of the world!"