real man was clear outside her ken.

Gordon set his jaw grimly. He would have it out with Diane. He would let
her see she was not going to have it all her own way. By God, he would
put a spoke in her wheel.

Sometimes, when the cool, evening breezes blew on his bare, fevered
head, he laughed at himself for an idiot. How did he know that Macdonald
wanted Sheba O'Neill. All the evidence he had was that he had once seen
the man watch her while she sang a sentimental song. Whereas it was
common talk that he would probably marry Mrs. Mallory, that for months
he had been her almost daily companion. If the older woman had lost
the sweet, supple slimness of her first youth, she had won in exchange
a sophisticated grace, a seductive allure that made her the envy of
all the women with whom she associated. She held at command a warm,
languorous charm which had stirred banked fires in the hearts of many
men. Why should not Macdonald woo her? Gordon himself admitted her
attractiveness.

And why should he take it for granted that Sheba was ready to drop into
the arms of the big Alaskan whenever he said the word? At the least he
was twenty years older than she. Surely she might admire him without
falling in love with the man. Was there not something almost insulting
in the supposition that Macdonald had only to speak to her in order to
win?

But in spite of reason he was on fire to come to his journey's end.
No sooner had he reached his hotel than he called up Mrs. Paget. Quite
clearly she understood that he wanted an invitation to dinner. Yet she
hesitated.

"My 'phone can't be working well," Gordon told her gayly. "You must have
asked me to dinner, but I didn't just hear it. Never mind. I'll be
there. Seven o'clock, did you say?"

Diane laughed. "You're just as much a boy as you were ten years ago,
Gord. All right. Come along. But you're to leave at ten. Do you
understand?"

"No, I can't hear that. My 'phone has gone bad again. And if I had
heard, I shouldn't think of doing anything so ridiculous as leaving at
that hour. It would be an insult to your hospitality. I know when I'm
well off."

"Then I'll have to withdraw my invitation. Perhaps some other day--"

"I'll leave at ten," promised Elliot meekly.

He could almost hear the smile in her voice as she answered. "Very well.
Seven sharp. I'll explain about the curfew limit sometime."

Macdonald was with Miss O'Neill in the living-room when Gordon arrived
at the Paget