say?" I was sure I had not heard aright.

"I say she's going to bring the car down--my chauffeur's sick, it
seems."

I didn't wonder at that, but I _did_ wonder at his sudden change.

"Then you're not afraid--"

"Afraid? I should say not! She can drive better than I can--better than
anybody in Westchester County!"

"I see--I see!" I said in a low voice. And I _did_ see, poor fellow! By
Jove, my spirits sank to zero.

"Yes, _there's_ somebody you can always rely on!" he enthused under his
changing mood. "Good thing in this blankety world there's _somebody_ you
can rely on--among women, I mean. There's a girl with a purpose in
life--yes, sir! Never dances, plays bridge, nor uses slang--no, sir! And
what's more, in this cursed age, she's one woman who can go through life
and say she never touched a cigarette or a cocktail."

"Of course--of course!" I agreed soothingly. By Jove, it was a devilish
sight better to have him talk this way about her. I wouldn't antagonize
anything he might say now. And I had turned his mind just by a simple
hint--the power of suggestion, you know. Just as I had myself forgotten
I was sleepy.

"Of course, you never have met my sister, have you?" he puffed. "I mean
the one that's been up at Radcliffe."

"Oh, _never_!" I said promptly.

"You will in the morning," said Billings, flicking his ash. "Not much to
look at--I mean not what you would call handsome--"

I interrupted. "Oh, but I say," I exclaimed unguardedly, "how can you
say that? I think she's just beautiful."

"Eh?" He stared so hard I was afraid I had got his mind off again.
"Thought you said you had never met her."

"No, no, I never did," I stammered. "Mistake, you know."

He went on musingly: "But I understand that her room-mate--who has come
home with her, by the way--is a peach. English girl, you know. They tell
me Francis is crazy about her beauty."

Dashed if I could see how she could be, for, by Jove, I had seen her
myself. It was the frump! Peach? She was a _fright_!

Here Billings' eyes hung on the ceiling as though he would bore through
it.

"Say, do you know"--he dropped his voice, still looking up--"I hope the
old gazabe up there won't get wise to those rubies. Awfully careless of
us--forgot all about them. By George, I've half a mind to go up there
and get the pajamas back."

"Oh, dash it, no!" I protested, for I was getting sleepy again. "It's
the silk the old fellow was interested in; he wants to exa