"I did," replied the other, making herself comfortable and getting ready to relate his strange actions.

"Well, well, now!" echoed the other, all attention.

"Yes," said Mrs. Towles, and then related all that had passed which was not anything but catching a glimpse of Baptiste as he had disappeared up the steps.

"I don't think they know next door, that he is in town," suggested the other.

"Don't they?"

"Why, not likely. You know the last time he was here they wouldn't admit him!" They eyed each other jubilantly, and then went on.

"Then we ought to go right over and inform them at once!" said Mrs. Towles.

"Just what we should do," agreed the other.

And so it happened that the Reverend learned that Jean Baptiste was in the city; but for once he was not excited. Somehow, he hoped that Jean would meet Orlean, and he knew then that she had gone out for that purpose. He knew that she was supposed to go to a matinée, and he realized from previous statements, that Mrs. Merley was the "go between."

So he took no part in the gossip that followed, nor did he for once sigh in self pity.

Perhaps after all he had decided not to interfere.

CHAPTER XV

Table of Contents

"LOVE YOU—GOD, I HATE YOU!"

THE PLAY they witnessed that afternoon was an emotional play, and in a degree it sufficed to arouse the emotion in all three. The meeting between Orlean and her husband had been without excitement. As if she had been expecting him, she welcomed him, and they had proceeded directly to a play at the Studebaker Theater downtown.

When they were again in the street, they went to another theater where they purchased tickets to witness Robert Mantell in Richelieu. And, later, taking a surface car on State Street, proceeded to a restaurant near Thirty-first Street where they had supper, after which they retired to the home of Mrs. Merley.

Of course that one left them to themselves in due time, and in a few minutes they were engaged in congenial conversation. After a time Jean caught her hand, and despite the slight protest she made, he succeeded in drawing her up on his knee.

"I ought not to sit here," she said.

"Why not, Orlean?" he said kindly, placing his arm about her waist fondly.

"Because."

"Because what, dear?"

She looked at him quickly. He met her eyes appealingly. She looked away, and then down at her toes.

"How you have fleshened," he commented.

"Do you think so?" she returned, inclined to be sociable.

"It is quite noticeable. And you are better looking when you are so."

"Oh, you flatter me," she chimed.

"I would like to flatter my wife."

She did not reply to this. She appeared to be comfortable, and he went on.

"Don't you know that I have longed to see you, and that it has not been just right that I could not?"

And still she made no answer.