In the end Jack had to give up the idea of separating Bobo from the lovely Miriam. For one thing Jack needed Miriam and Mrs. Cleaver in his present business, and Bobo supplied his only excuse for going there. The ladies were not interested in the humble secretary for himself.
So he warned Bobo afresh, and prayed that the infatuated youth might not be led into any irrevocable step before he was able to tell him the whole truth about his inamorata.
Meanwhile one of those tremendous intimacies characteristic of the fluff of society sprang up between the four. Within a few days Bobo and Jack were all but living at Mrs. Cleaver's house. A hundredfold millionaire gets on fast socially. Jack was always included in Bobo's invitations as an understood thing. One witty lady was heard to call him the sugar that coated the pill.
Jack speculated endlessly on the real nature of the relations between Clara Cleaver and Miriam. It was given out that they were cousins, and on the surface they exhibited a formal affection towards each other. But that they did not love each other was very clear. Dislike the same as murder will out. Off her guard Mrs. Cleaver's manner towards Miriam was as to something she was obliged to put up with, and the younger woman in her more natural moments displayed more than a touch of arrogance towards her supposed hostess. Moreover, Mrs. Cleaver was clearly well-born and Miriam just as clearly was not. Not for a moment did Jack believe in the supposed blood relationship.
Jack liked Mrs. Cleaver a lot better than Miriam. The former might be light-headed, vain, luxury-loving, rather silly, but she had a kind heart. Jack could not conceive of her as being engaged in calculated villainy. Yet she must be in the game, too. She and Miriam worked together. The farther he explored this amazing game the greater became Jack's perplexity. The different elements were so incongruous.
"But if I go deep enough I must find the link that connects them all!" he told himself. "The decent little gentleman with the imperial; Barbarossa, the anarchist; Dave Anderson, the detective; Clara Cleaver, the well-born lady, and Miriam Culbreth, the adventuress!"
The relation between Jack and Miriam was a complicated one. As in the beginning, she made it clear that while she intended to marry the millionaire she was not averse to having the secretary make love to her. Jack's indifference piqued the spoiled beauty almost beyond bearing. She longed to bring him to her feet, and she hated him cordially, too, as he learned before he had been visiting Mrs. Cleaver's house many days.
It was the tea hour. Jack had come after Bobo, but found everybody out. They had left word for him to wait, so he drifted up to the library where they usually had tea, and picking up a book he dropped into a chair to read. At his left hand hung a portière dividing the library from the central hall, which ran up through the house.
After a little while Miriam and Bobo came up in the elevator. Evidently there had been a misunderstanding about Jack's arrival—possibly some other servant had admitted them, for Miriam said:
"We'll wait a while for him before we ring for tea."
They dropped into a cozy corner in the hall, a nook favored of couples. It was immediately on the other side of the curtain at Jack's hand and he could therefore hear every word spoken above a whisper. He was debating with himself whether or not the circumstances justified him in playing the eavesdropper, when he heard Miriam say:
"You've never told me how you and Jack met, and how you came to choose him for your secretary."
That decided Jack. He gave no sign of his presence.
Bobo replied: "Oh, I've known him a good while. When I worked in the sash factory down-town, he was there, too."
"What did you do there?"
"Bookkeeper."
"What did Jack do?"
"Oh he—he was a bookkeeper, too. There were two of us. And we were friends outside the office, too. Used to go round together nights. So when I came into my money—why it was natural for me to get Jack to help me to look after it."
"Not bad for Bobo," thought Jack. He pricked up his ears at the next words.
"I don't see how you put up with him!" said Miriam.
"Put up with him!" echoed Bobo. In his fancy Jack could see the blank look that overspread the honest fat face. "Why—why, what's the matter with Jack?"
"The way he runs you, I mean. One would think he was the millionaire, and you the hired secretary."
Bobo made queer, scared noises in his throat. It seemed to Jack that Miriam must suspect that she had hit the nail on the head, but apparently she did not, for her next words were in the same drawling, careless tone.
"He all but tells you how to answer when people speak to you."
"Oh!" said Bobo, somewhat relieved. "But Jack's clever, and I'm not."
"You're not as stupid as he likes to make out," suggested Miriam.
"Devil!" thought Jack.
"Make out!" said Bobo. "Jack doesn't make out anything. He's my friend."
"My poor Bobo!" she said with indulgent tenderness. "You're criminally good-natured! Of course he knows which side his bread is buttered on. He's not going to say anything openly. But friends! Oh, how blind you are!"
"Jack and I are friends," repeated Bobo. "Jack's on the square!"
She laughed delicately. Jack guessed that she patted Bobo's hand or something like that. "Oh, well, let's change the subject," she said in a tone that forced him to continue it.
"No," said Bobo, just as she had intended him to. "Tell me what you mean. Does he talk about me?"
"Oh, it isn't what he says," she said with seeming reluctance. "But it makes me mad! Always poking fun at you!"
"Liar!" thought Jack.
"Making fun of me!" said Bobo in hurt tones. "Behind my back! I didn't think it of him!"
"There, forget it," she said soothingly. "It doesn't make any difference to your real friends."
"What did he say about me?"
"I shan't tell you. I don't want to make trouble."
Jack grimly smiled to himself.
"But I don't see why you put up with it," she presently went on. "As it is, you daren't call your soul your own. He manages you like a child—you a grown man."
"What can I do?" said poor Bobo.
"Fire him!"
"So that's your game!" thought Jack. "It's foredoomed to failure, lady!"
"Oh, I can't do that!" said Bobo horrified.
"Why not? I guess you can manage your own affairs as well as other men, can't you? Get a lawyer to help you. Everybody would think more of you if you came right out and put Jack in his place. They talk about it, you know. It's unmanly to submit to the dictation of one who is really no more than your servant. Send him away, and see how much better you'll get along with people. He fixes it so that you always show to a disadvantage beside him. That hurts me, because I know what there is in you!"
"Oh, you siren!" thought Jack. In a way, he could not but admire her cleverness.
She went on: "Some day I suppose you'll want to marry." Jack could imagine how modestly she cast down the long lashes when she said this. "I say this for your own good. No woman, you know, would want to put herself in the position of being under the thumb of her husband's secretary."
All Bobo could find to say was: "I'm sorry you don't like him." Jack had to confess to himself that a better man than Bobo might well have been stumped by such a situation.
"Oh, it doesn't matter about me," she said, "but he is openly rude to me. You don't seem to care."
"I do! I do!" cried poor Bobo. "I'll put a stop to that. I'll speak to him!"
"Yes," she said with a kind of plaintive spitefulness, "tell him I told you, and then he'll act worse to me than ever. If you cared about me at all, you wouldn't keep him for another day."
"You just leave it to me, I'll fix it," said Bobo desperately.
"That's what you say every day, but I don't see any change."
"So this is an everyday affair!" thought Jack. "Poor Bobo!"
"It can't go on," she said gloomily. "I think too much of you as a friend to stand seeing another man run you. I'd rather give you up—as a friend. If I've got to put up with Jack Robinson, I don't want to see you any more."
The softest creature, pushed to the wall, shows fight. "I won't fire Jack," said Bobo sullenly. "You're just trying to run me the same way you say he is. If I've got to go, I'll go!"
"Good for Bobo!" thought Jack.
She quickly performed the undignified maneuver known as climbing down. "No, Bobo," she said meltingly. "You are right. I shouldn't have spoken that way. It is none of my business. But I can't bear to see you imposed on. It made me forget myself!"
"I can take care of myself," muttered Bobo.
"Forgive me," she said angelically, "and let's change the subject. Come into the library, and I'll order tea."
It was Jack's turn to be surprised. He judged from her voice that she had already risen, so he had about two seconds to make up his mind how to act. He relaxed completely in the big chair, let his head fall back, closed his eyes and breathed deeply.
She came between the curtains. He heard the swish of her silk petticoat.
"Oh!" she said sharply. Surprise, fear, chagrin, all were blended in the sound.
Bobo at her heels said blankly: "I'll be jiggered!"
Jack opened his eyes sleepily, blinked at the sight of them, and sprang up.
"What's the matter!" he said. "Where am I? Oh—I must have fallen asleep. Please excuse me!"
He flattered himself it was very well done. Bobo at least was completely taken in. As to the girl, he could not be sure. It was likely that being an accomplished dissimulator herself, she would on principle suspect him of dissimulation.
But she gave away nothing in her face. "You're excusable," she said with a light laugh. "They told us you hadn't come. If you could have seen how funny you looked! Come on, let's have tea."
Throughout that ceremony Jack labored with his most light-hearted air to remove any suspicions she might have that he had overheard her talk with Bobo. It was not easy to read that young lady's face, but he believed that he saw her gradually relax and be at ease again.
The sequel to this scene took place later the same night. Jack, Bobo and Miriam went to the theater, and afterwards to the Alpine Heights to sup. Having arrived at the exquisite restaurant, Miriam announced that she had lost a pearl pin in the theater. Poor Bobo had to go back after it, though he had already ordered a recherché little supper. Jack offered to go, but Miriam silenced him with a peculiar look, so he sat back and let things take their course.
When they were alone together, Miriam softly said, turning the hazel eyes full on him: "Why can't we be friends, Jack?"
He could have sworn the lovely orbs were big with tears, and in spite of himself his heart leaped; she was so beautiful! "Steady!" he whispered to himself. "It's probably onions or pepper!"
"Aren't we friends?" he said with an air of surprise.
She sadly shook her head. "You know we're not! You distrust me, dislike me; you cannot hide it!"
"It's not so!" said Jack. "I've already explained what it is that you think is dislike. You put a man on the defensive. You've already gobbled up poor Bobo, skin and bones and hymn-book, too! I've got to be careful!"
"Oh, you won't be serious!" she pouted. "And you saw how I lied to get the chance of speaking to you alone."
"Then there wasn't any pearl pin?"
"Of course not!"
"Poor Bobo! I'll be serious. What is it?"
"Oh, it's nothing special! I just wanted to see if I couldn't bring about a better understanding between you and me. It's awfully hard on Bobo, who is such friends with both of us—that you and I can't get on better I mean."
"Let's have a better understanding!" said Jack heartily. Privately he was thinking: "Lovely lady, what are you driving at now?"
"Bobo is such a dear," she went on, "but he's terribly dependent. He depends on you, and now he's beginning to depend on me! Well, it seems to me that we share a pretty serious responsibility, his having all that money and all. We ought to consult about what we should do, and agree on a course of action. If you and I pull against each other, Bobo will be torn in two, so to speak."
Jack looked seriously impressed, but inwardly he was grinning wickedly. "Ha!" he thought, "having failed in her effort to kick me out she is now proposing in diplomatic language that we get together and whack up." Aloud he said: "I expect you're right, though I hadn't thought of it that way. I thought I would take care of Bobo's business affairs, and you would look after his personal character."
"But under altered circumstances it might be difficult," she said darkly.
"Eh?"
"Don't be dense. I suppose you know that Bobo wants to marry me."
Jack never batted an eye. "I can't say that I am exactly surprised. Nor that I blame him," he added gallantly.
"Be serious. Of course I haven't accepted him yet. I have to be sure of my own feelings."
Jack stroked his lip to hide a grim smile.
"Have you any objection to his marrying me?" she asked boldly.
Jack lied quickly. "None whatever."
"Then why did you try to poison his mind against me?"
Jack thought: "Oh, Bobo! Bobo! I'm glad I didn't tell you all." To her he said with seeming astonishment: "I! Poison his mind against you! What an idea!"
"Well, try to dissuade him from—er—paying me attention."
"My dear Miriam, put yourself in my place for a moment. I am Bobo's friend. I do feel the responsibility of looking after him, just as you say. He meets a lovely girl of whom we know nothing, a girl lovely enough to believe the worst of—and he falls head over heels in love. Was it not my plain duty to beg him to go slow, to think what he was doing?"
"What do you mean, believe the worst of?"
"Just a figure of speech. You are really remarkably beautiful. It isn't reasonable to suppose that you have reached your present age without having had—well, exciting things happen to you."
She shrugged. "I wish I had had." She was unable to keep a sharp note out of her voice. "You told him that I—wasn't all that I ought to be."
"I had to say something to make him pull up long enough to give me time to find out."
"Then you haven't got anything against me?"
Jack's eyes were as limpid as a mountain stream. If one is going to lie, one may as well do it artistically. "Nothing in the world, Miriam!"
She leaned across the table and gave his hand a little squeeze. "I'm so glad we've had this talk," she murmured.
They beamed on each other in seeming friendly fashion—but there were hard points of light in each pair of eyes.
"Pleasant little comedy," thought Jack. "I'm willing to keep it up as long as she is."
"We must often consult together, and decide what is best for Bobo," she went on sweetly. "And if he won't do things that you think he ought, I'll add my influence. And then I'll get you to help me with him when I need you."
"Fine!" said Jack. "Poor Bobo!" he silently added.
As was usual with this young lady, her romantic and sentimental scenes generally led up to a very practical climax.
"Has Bobo given you power of attorney?" she asked.
"No."
"Why is it he won't draw even the smallest of checks unless you are there?"
"Oh, that was one of the things we agreed on when I took the job of secretary. He wanted to be saved from throwing it about."
"Very wise," said Miriam. "But now that he has another disinterested friend the situation is altered, isn't it? If I am with him it will be sufficient. I shall tell him that you release him from that part of your agreement." This was said with a charming smile, as a sort of experimental joke.
Jack smiled back no less sweetly. "But I have not released him."
"I thought we were going to work together," she pouted.
Jack still affected to treat the matter as a joke. "You surely don't expect me to yield up the only source of my power!—the hand upon the purse strings!"
She shook an arch finger at him—but there was an angry spark in the hazel eyes. "Beware!" she said merrily. "The power of the faithful secretary is threatened by the adored wife. You'd better accept my offer of an alliance when it is open."
"Oh, when Bobo takes a wife I'll resign," said Jack, laughing.
Bobo came bustling back at this juncture. "I've had a deuce of a time," he grumbled. "The theater was closed. I found the watchman, but he wouldn't let me in. Said he'd find the pin if it was there, and turn it into the box-office. Old fool!"
"It was cruel of me to send you all that way," cooed Miriam. "Sit down and eat a good supper. I shan't be able to eat a mouthful till you say you forgive me!"
"Forgive you!" cried poor Bobo. "I'd go to China and back if it would please you!"
They gazed into each other's eyes, while Jack grimly sipped his wine. "You're clever," he was thinking, "but there's a serious defect in your method. How do you expect me to fall for you, when you let me see you making such a fool of Bobo!"