He sat glowering and grim at the Important Meeting the next evening, when he should have been gratified that his presence was desired--for Maley wasn't there, nor Garland, nor Alverson. But in spite of the Honor, and the Significance, Nolan's mind was wandering. He lost sight of the Truly Greats, and saw only a cloudy picture of Eveley, soft, sweet and dimply, sitting rapt by the side of the Darned Blue Eyes. And that night, at eleven o'clock, on his way to his modest room, he suddenly started. Coming demurely out of the Grant, he saw Eveley and the blue-eyed one, and laughing beside them, Kitty and some other equally reprehensible being. Nolan could hardly believe the evidence of his own eyes. He fumed openly while he allowed them a decent interval for reaching home, and then called Eveley by telephone. "Eveley, I thought I saw you and Kitty coming out of the Grant with some men a little while ago." "Oh, did you?" Eveley's voice was vibrant with surprise. "Yes." "Isn't that funny?" she laughed a little, softly. "Well, were you?" "Were we what?" "Were you there?" "Why, yes, of course. We stopped for a sandwich. We missed our dinner. The engine broke down on the Biological Grade, and held us up for quite a while." "Eveley--" "Oh, it was perfectly all right. He found out to-day that he had a friend who is a life-long friend of Kitty's and he brought him along, and we were all nicely introduced and everything was as proper as you please." "Did you buy the car?" he asked witheringly. "Oh, no, he advised me, confidentially, not to. He is going to change to the Bemis agency to-morrow, and he thinks he will find it much more satisfactory. Wasn't it a lovely night? Did you have a nice time with the High and Mighties? Kitty is going to stay all night with me, and we are just making some hot chocolate. Won't you come for a cup?--Oh, just Kitty and I, and it is quite early. Come along, and we'll tell you all the bad points about the Doric. But they say the Bemis is a wonder." CHAPTER IX ADMITTING DEFEAT The first Saturday after the organization of the Irish-American League brought a blessed spring rain, especially heaven-sent on her account, Eveley felt quite sure, for she was greatly worn from coping with motor salesmen and the father-in-law situation. And this was a rain that not even boys could stand, so she had a blissful afternoon alone, purring and puttering about contentedly in her Cloud Cote. But on the second Saturday, according to agreement, the League met in the appointed field for a game. This was Eveley's first opportunity to witness the development of American principles in her chosen flotsam. The meeting had been called for one-thirty, and although Eveley arrived fifteen minutes early she found the field occupied by fully twenty youths of varying sizes, colors and brogues. She gazed upon the motley array in helpless horror.