accepted a large sum of money on condition of his handing down a
decision favourable to the company.

Jefferson was thunderstruck. He read the despatch over again to
make sure there was no mistake. No, it was very plain--Judge
Rossmore of Madison Avenue. But how preposterous, what a calumny!
The one judge on the bench at whom one could point and say with
absolute conviction: "There goes an honest man!" And this judge
was to be tried on a charge of bribery! What could be the meaning
of it? Something terrible must have happened since Shirley's
departure from home, that was certain. It meant her immediate
return to the States and, of course, his own. He would see what
could be done. He would make his father use his great influence.
But how could he tell Shirley? Impossible, he could not! She would
not believe him if he did. She would probably hear from home in
some other way. They might cable. In any case he would say nothing
yet. He paid for his vermouth and hurried away to his hotel to
dress.

It was just striking seven when he re-entered the courtyard of the
Grand Hotel. Shirley and Mrs. Blake were waiting for him.
Jefferson suggested having dinner at the Café de Paris, but
Shirley objected that as the weather was warm it would be more
pleasant to dine in the open air, so they finally decided on the
Pavilion d'Armonville where there was music and where they could
have a little table to themselves in the garden.

They drove up the stately Champs Elysées, past the monumental Arc
de Triomphe, and from there down to the Bois. All were singularly
quiet. Mrs. Blake was worrying about her new gown, Shirley was