"I surely am. I wouldn't slight that splendid girl. She's a whole lot to me, Danny boy, both for her own sake and Dick Prescott's." Even the short stroll, however, between Belle Meade's home and Laura's, was bound to bring Dave Darrin again into the unwished-for limelight. He and Belle had turned into Main Street together, and were walking along, chatting, when Belle's eyes flashed suddenly. "There's that horrid wretch Ardmore," she murmured in an undertone. "Don't believe I know him," Darrin returned. "Then you haven't been deprived of much," replied Belle, in a tone that was very nearly bitter. "I've been meaning to tell you about him, Dave, but other matters have been cropping up and it has escaped me until now." "What's wrong with Ardmore?" asked Dave. "He's posing as an admirer of mine." "I can't quarrel with his taste," smiled Darrin. "But he annoys me." "Has he dared to do that?" demanded Dave, a quick flash in his eyes. "Not in any way that it would be easy to resent," Belle assured him. "Who is this fellow Ardmore?" "He appears to be a gentleman--at least in his ordinary conduct," Belle Meade answered. "He moved here last spring with his parents. The father is a retired lawyer, and wealthy. The Ardmores move in a rather good set in town. About a month ago Caspar Ardmore, the young man, met me at a church affair. Ever since then he has all but waylaid me. Several times he has tried to walk with me when we met, and has often tried to see me home from church or elsewhere. I've been almost downright rude to him, and have shown him in every way I can that I don't wish to continue acquaintance. But he's hard to discourage." "He hasn't insulted you?" asked Dave quietly. "Oh, dear, no! If he had, I think I might have been able to startle him somewhat," laughed Belle, who had a "temper" when it was necessary to have one. As she spoke she raised her eyes, glancing ahead. "There, he has stopped, and looks almost as though he were waiting for us," she added. "There's an ugly scowl on his face, too." Dave Darrin looked ahead at the foppish, rather good-looking, tall and slender young man of some twenty-six years. "I hope he isn't going to be troublesome," murmured Dave. "I don't want to have to fight with him--at least, not when you're along with me." As they neared Ardmore, Dave continued to look at the young man quietly, steadily, frankly. Ardmore seemed trying to ignore the gaze, and looked, instead, at Belle. Just as the young couple reached him, Ardmore raised his hat, at the same time stepping forward so that he blocked Belle's progress. "Good afternoon, Miss Meade," was Ardmore's greeting. "I was on my way to your house when I saw you. Mother has some tickets for a concert at the Sorosis rooms, and is unable to use them this afternoon. So I have come to ask you if you will not honor me with your company at the concert?"