then. Why tarry with the flesh-pots
further?"

"I've often heard you say that men couldn't preach heaven until they
knew life."

He threw up his hands in exasperation. "It isn't fair for a woman to be
logical--it takes a man unawares."

"Then you admit I am logical?"

"Even if I wanted to stay, I couldn't."

"Why not?"

His head drooped and a faint colour showed under the bronze of his skin.
But he remained silent.

"What's lacking?"

His discomfort was apparent. "I'd like to fix up a bit--get a
hair-cut--and things," he stammered.

"Well, why don't you? You've got two whole days."

Suddenly he straightened, and a smile broke over his reddened features,
"There's no use being silly about it, I guess. The fact is--I'm broke."

"Oh, is that all. Well, that's easily fixed. Why didn't you say so
before?" she said with a smile. "You ought to take lessons from my
brother."

"I don't need all this," he stammered, fingering the bill she held out
to him.

"It's the smallest I have. But why didn't you tell me?"

"One doesn't like to beg."

"You're hardly consistent, are you?"

"No, I'm too human."

"Will you be human enough to forsake your principles and come to my
party?"

"I'd rather not."

"That's understood. It makes the favour greater. But you will come?"

"If I must."

"I'll be very grateful."

"Then I will." The words came from him with such obvious reluctance that
she could not resist a smile.

"Do be back in plenty of time."

"I'd rather break my leg again," he said gloomily. Then declining her
offer of the motor-car to take him to the station, he left her.

"You're stealing my class-consciousness from me," he called from the
gate way.

She laughed, not quite understanding what he meant, and watched his
ungainly figure until it was out of sight. Would he return? Or had she
seen the last of Brent Good? Finally she shrugged her shoulders and
tried to dismiss him from her mind.

But when Wednesday came, and no Good, nor word from him, she was more
keenly disappointed than she cared to admit. The two o'clock train
brought a party which had arranged for some golf with Roger.

"Anyone come out with you?" she asked, as if the question were of no
consequence.

"Only Joe Faxon," said one of the men. "He was bound for the Warings'."

At three Molly Wolcott came, only to disappear promptly in the direction
of the golf course. At five-thirty all had arrived with the exception of
Della Bake