ws how much you know about
me."

"I know a great deal," said Noel, with an ardent glance. "And that's
what makes me want to know much more. You know, you're horribly
tantalizing, if you will allow me to say so."

"In what way?" She spoke coolly; there was a hint of challenge in the
grey eyes she turned upon him.

He laughed without embarrassment. "I can't quite explain. There's
something so elusively attractive--or do I mean attractively
elusive?--about you. I call you 'the will-o'-the-wisp girl' to my own
private soul."

"I hope your own private soul is too sensible to encourage such
nonsense," said Olga severely.

He looked at her, sheer mischief dancing in his Irish eyes. "Come and
see it some day and judge for yourself!" he said. "I can fix up a
_seance_ any time. It would always be at home to you. I'm sure you would
get on together."

It was hard to restrain a smile; Olga permitted herself one of strictly
limited proportions.

"I will show you a glimpse presently if you would care to see it,"
proceeded Noel.

"Oh, please don't trouble!" said Olga.

"Afraid of being bored?" he asked.

She laughed. "Perhaps."

He leaned towards her. Her laugh was reflected in his eyes, but she did
not hear it in his voice as he said, "Do you mean that? Do I really bore
you?"

She met his look for a moment, and her heart quickened a little. Quite
suddenly she realized that this man, young though he was, possessed a
wonderful power of attraction. She wondered if he himself were aware of
it, and rapidly decided that he had made the discovery in his cradle. Of
one thing she was certain. She did not want to fall in love with him. He
drew her indeed, but it was against her will.

"Well?" he said. "Have you made up your mind yet?"

She smiled. "Oh, no, you don't bore me," she said.

"Thanks awfully! It's not generally considered a family failing of the
Wyndhams. Every other rascality under the sun, but not that."

"What a fascinating family you seem to be!" said Olga.

He made a wry face. "In a sense. Did you find Max fascinating?"

He put the question carelessly; yet she suspected he had a reason for
asking it. She felt the tell-tale blood rising in her face.

"You don't like him?" said Noel.

She hesitated.

"I don't mind your saying so in the least," he assured her. "He's a
queer chap--a bit of a genius in his own line; but geniuses are trying
folk to live with. How did he get on with your father?"

"Oh, Da