"I'm sorry," said Cochran, "but I've not had that honor. On the stage, of course--"He shrugged the broad shoulders deprecatingly, as though to suggest that not to know Miss Proctor as an artist argues oneself unknown.
Griswold pretended to be puzzled. As though endeavoring to recall a past conversation he frowned.
"But Aline," he said, "told me she had met you-met you at Bar Harbor." In the fatal photographs the familiar landfalls of Bar Harbor had been easily recognized.
The young architect shook his head.
"It must be another Cochran," he suggested. "I have never been in Bar Harbor."With the evidence of the photographs before him this last statement was a verdict of guilty, and Griswold, not with the idea of giving Cochran a last chance to be honest, but to cause him to dig the pit still deeper, continued to lead him on. "Maybe she meant York Harbor?"Again Cochran shook his head and laughed.
"Believe me," he said, "if I'd ever met Miss Proctor anywhere Iwouldn't forget it!"
Ten minutes later Griswold was talking to Aline over the telephone.
He intended to force matters. He would show Aline she could neither trifle with nor deceive Chester Griswold; but the thought that he had been deceived was not what most hurt him. What hurt him was to think that Aline had preferred a man who looked like an advertisement for ready-made clothes and who worked in his shirt-sleeves.
Griswold took it for granted that any woman would be glad to marry him.
So many had been willing to do so that he was convinced, when one of them was not, it was not because there was anything wrong with him, but because the girl herself lacked taste and perception.
That the others had been in any degree moved by his many millions had never suggested itself. He was convinced each had loved him for himself alone; and if Aline, after meeting him, would still consider any one else, it was evident something was very wrong with Aline. He was determined that she must be chastened--must be brought to a proper appreciation of her good fortune and of his condescension.
On being called to the telephone at ten in the morning, Aline demanded to know what could excuse Griswold for rousing her in the middle of the night!
Griswold replied that, though the day was young, it also was charming; that on Sunday there might be rain; and that if she desired to see the house he and Post thought would most suit her, he and his car would be delighted to convey her to it. They could make the run in an hour, lunch with friends at Westbury, and return in plenty of time for the theatre. Aline was delighted at the sudden interest Griswold was showing in the new house.
Without a moment's hesitation she walked into the trap. She would go, she declared, with pleasure. In an hour he should call for her.
Exactly an hour later Post arrived at his office. He went directly to Cochran.
"Charles," he said, "I'm afraid I got you into trouble yesterday.
I took a client to see your house. You have often let us do it before;but since I was there last you've made some changes. In your bedroom--"Post stopped.
Cochran's naive habit of blushing told him it was not necessary to proceed. In tones of rage and mortification Cochran swore explosively; Post was relieved to find he was swearing at himself.
"I ought to be horsewhipped!" roared Cochran. "I'll never forgive myself! Who," he demanded, "saw the pictures? Was it a man or a woman?"Post laughed unhappily.
"It was Chester Griswold."
A remarkable change came over Cochran. Instead of sobering him, as Post supposed it would, the information made him even more angry--only now his anger was transferred from himself to Griswold.
"The blankety-blank bounder!" yelled Cochran. "That was what he wanted! That's why he came here!""Here!" demanded Post.
"Not an hour ago," cried Cochran. "He asked me about Bar Harbor.
He saw those pictures were taken at Bar Harbor!""I think," said Post soothingly, "he'd a right to ask questions.
There were so many pictures, and they were very--well--very!""I'd have answered his questions," roared Cochran, "if he'd asked them like a man, but he came snooping down here to spy on me.
He tried to trick me. He insulted me! He insulted her!" He emitted a howl of dismay. "And I told him I'd never been to Bar Harbor--that I'd never met Aline Proctor!"
Cochran seized his coat and hat. He shouted to one of the office boys to telephone the garage for his car.
"What are you--where are you going?" demanded Post.
"I'm going home first," cried Cochran, "to put those pictures in a safe, as I should have done three months ago. And then I'm going to find Chester Griswold and tell him he's an ass and a puppy!""If you do that," protested Post, "you're likely to lose us a very valuable client.""And your client," roared Charles, "is likely to lose some very valuable teeth!"As Charles whirled into the country road in which stood his house he saw drawn up in front of it the long gray car in which, that morning, Chester Griswold had called at the office. Cochran emitted a howl of anger. Was his home again to be invaded? And again while he was absent? To what extreme would Griswold's jealousy next lead him?
He fell out of his own car while it still moved, and leaped up the garden walk. The front rooms of the house were empty, but from his bedroom he heard, raised in excited tones, the voice of Griswold. The audacity of the man was so surprising, and his own delight at catching him red-handed so satisfying, that no longer was Cochran angry. The Lord had delivered his enemy into his hands! And, as he advanced toward his bedroom, not only was he calm, but, at the thought of his revenge, distinctly jubilant. In the passageway a frightened maid servant, who, at his unexpected arrival, was now even more frightened, endeavored to give him an explanation; but he waved her into silence, and, striding before her, entered his bedroom.