him from England. One could infer that, but he didn't say it. In fact

the more he read his letter over, the more he got to inferring it

himself.

When the old earl received that letter, the first part of it filled him

with a grim and snarly satisfaction; but the rest of it brought a snort

or two out of him that could be translated differently. He wasted no ink

in this emergency, either in cablegrams or letters; he promptly took ship

for America to look into the matter himself. He had staunchly held his

grip all this long time, and given no sign of the hunger at his heart to

see his son; hoping for the cure of his insane dream, and resolute that

the process should go through all the necessary stages without assuaging

telegrams or other nonsense from home, and here was victory at last.

Victory, but stupidly marred by this idiotic marriage project. Yes, he

would step over and take a hand in this matter himself.

During the first ten days following the mailing of the letter Tracy's

spirits had no idle time; they were always climbing up into the clouds or

sliding down into the earth as deep as the law of gravitation reached.

He was intensely happy or intensely miserable by turns, according to Miss

Sally's moods. He never could tell when the mood was going to change,

and when it changed he couldn't tell what it was that had changed it.

Sometimes she was so in love with him that her love was tropical, torrid,

and she could find no language fervent enough for its expression; then

suddenly, and without warning or any apparent reason, the weather would

change, and the victim would find himself adrift among the icebergs and

256

The American Claimant