"You mean--that people might talk?"

"She might feel conspicuously present."

"Do you think so? We are such good friends, you know."

"Of course, if you'd like to have her," slowly and doubtfully, "why,
put her name down. But you evidently haven't seen that." Mrs. Dan
pointed to a copy of the Trumpet which lay on the table.

When he had handed her the paper she said, "'The Censor' is growing
facetious at your expense."

"I am getting on in society with a vengeance if that ass starts in to
write about me. Listen to this"--she had pointed out to him the
obnoxious paragraph--"If Brewster Drew a diamond flush, do you suppose
he'd catch the queen? And if he caught her, how long do you think she'd
remain Drew? Or, if she Drew Brewster, would she be willing to learn
such a game as Monte?"

The next morning a writer who signed himself "The Censor" got a
thrashing and one Montgomery Brewster had his name in the papers,
surrounded by fulsome words of praise.

CHAPTER VIII

THE FORELOCK OF TIME

One morning not long after the incidents just related, Brewster lay in
bed, staring at the ceiling, deep in thought. There was a worried
pucker on his forehead, half-hidden by the rumpled hair, and his eyes
were wide and sleepless. He had dined at the Drews' the evening before
and had had an awakening. As he thought of the matter he could recall
no special occurrence that he could really use as evidence. Colonel and
Mrs. Drew had been as kind as ever and Barbara could not have been more
charming. But something had gone wrong and he had endured a wretched
evening.

"That little English Johnnie was to blame," he argued. "Of course,
Barbara had a right to put any one she liked next to her, but why she
should have chosen that silly ass is more than I know. By Jove, if I
had been on the other side I'll warrant his grace would have been lost
in the dust."

His brain was whirling, and for the first time he was beginning to feel
the unpleasant pangs of jealousy. The Duke of Beauchamp he especially
disliked, although the poor man had hardly spoken during the dinner.
But Monty could not be reconciled. He knew, of course, that Barbara had
suitors by the dozen, but it had never occurred to him that they were
even seriously considered. Notwithstanding the fact that his encounter
with "The Censor" had brought her into undesirable notice, she forgave
him everything after a moment's consideration. The first few wrenches
of resentme