was a tap at his door, and he called "Come in." From her babyhood
Lily had had her own peculiar method of signaling that she stood
without, a delicate rapid tattoo of finger nails on the panel. He
watched smilingly for her entrance.

"Well!" she said. "Thank goodness you haven't started to dress. I tried
to get here earlier, but my hair wouldn't go up, I want to make a good
impression to-night."

"Is there a dinner on? I didn't know it."

"Not a dinner. A young man. I came to see what you are going to wear."

"Really! Well, I haven't a great variety. The ordinary dinner dress of a
gentleman doesn't lend itself to any extraordinary ornamentation. If
you like, I'll pin on that medal from the Iron and Steel--Who's coming,
Lily?"

"Grayson says grandfather's dining out."

"I believe so."

"What a piece of luck! I mean--you know what he'd say if I asked him not
to dress for dinner."

"Am I to gather that you are asking me?"

"You wouldn't mind, would you? He hasn't any evening clothes."

"Look here, Lily," said her father, sitting upright. "Who is coming here
to-night? And why should he upset the habits of the entire family?"

"Willy Cameron. You know, father. And he has the queerest ideas about
us. Honestly. And I want him to like us, and it's such a good chance,
with grandfather out."

He ignored that.

"How about our liking him?"

"Oh, you'll like him. Everybody does. You will try to make a good
impression, won't you, father?"

He got up, and resting his hands on her shoulders, smiled down into her
upturned face. "I will," he said. "But I think I should tell you that
your anxiety arouses deep and black suspicions in my mind. Am I to
understand that you have fixed your young affections on this Willy
Cameron, and that you want your family to help you in your dark
designs?"

Lily laughed.

"I love him," she said. "I really do. I could listen to him for hours.
But people don't want to marry Willy Cameron. They just love him."

There was born in Howard's mind a vision of a nice pink and white young
man, quite sexless, whom people loved but did not dream of marrying.

"I see," he said slowly. "Like a puppy."

"Not at all like a puppy."

"I'm afraid I'm not subtle, my dear. Well, ring for Adams, and--you
think he wouldn't care for the medal?"

"I think he'd love it. He'd probably think some king gave it to you. I'm
sure he believes that you and grandfather habitually hobnob with kings."
She turned t