Cope soon caught Randolph's idea, and he stared. He did not at all resent Randolph's advances; misapprehension, in fact, might serve as fairly, in the end, as the clearest understanding. Randolph placed his hand on Cope's shoulder. "You have only to assert yourself," he said. "The other man is an intruder; it would be easy to warn him off before he starts in to win her." "George Pearson?" said Cope. "Win her? In heaven's name," he blurted out, "let him!" It was a cry of distaste and despair, in which no rival was concerned. Randolph now had the situation in its real lines. "Well, this is no place for a talk," he said. "If you should care to happen in on me some evening before long...." "I have Wednesday," returned Cope, with eagerness. "Not Wednesday. I have an engagement for that evening. But any evening a little later." "Friday? The worst of my week's work is over by then." "Friday will do." And they parted. Randolph had secured for his Wednesday evening Medora Phillips and Hortense. Hortense was the young person to pair with Pearson, who had thrown over an evening at his club for the dinner with Randolph. The talk was to be--in sections and installments--of Amy Leffingwell, and of Cope in so far as he might enter. Medora would speak; Hortense would speak; Randolph himself should speak. To complete the party he had asked his relations from the far side of the big city. His sister would preside for him; and his brother-in-law might justify his expenditure of time and trouble by stopping off in advance for a brief confab, as trustee, at the administration building, with the president. A compatriot had been secured by Sing-Lo to help in dining-room and kitchen. Randolph had planned a short dinner. His sister, facing the long return-drive, would doubtless be willing to leave by nine-thirty. Then, with two extraneous pieces removed from the board, the real matter in hand might be got under way. Mrs. Phillips was most lively from the start. She praised the house, which she was seeing for the first time. She extolled Sing-Lo's department, and Sing-Lo, who delighted in entertainments, was one broad smile. She had a word of encouragement for his less smiling helper, whom she informally christened Sing-Hi; and she chatted endlessly with Mrs. Brackett--perhaps even helped tire her out. Yes, George Pearson was to be urged forward for the rescue of Bertram Cope. Pearson spoke up loud and clear among the males. He was a business-man among business-men, and during the very few moments formally allowed for the cigars he made himself, as he felt, tell. And after the Bracketts left--at nine twenty-five--he was easily content to stay on for three-quarters of an hour longer. At nine-forty Pearson was saying, amidst the cigarette-smoke of the den: "Does she expect to teach the violin all her life?"