In the hospital she found Tom Stevens and saw that everything possible was done for him. He did not know her, but he told her of a beautiful girl far away in Maine whom he loved, but who cared nothing for him. Her eyes were red from unshed tears when she left him. That evening Frank called on Hilda. He brought Jack Diamond along, and the Virginian was afterward forced to confess that the girl from Maine was as charming in her manners and conversation as she had appeared when he first saw her on Twenty-third Street. “Yes,” Jack told himself, “she is much like Juliet, only she lacks a certain refinement Juliet possesses.” At the same time Frank was thinking: “How much like Inza she is! I don’t think I ever noticed it before; but she lacks a certain subtle charm that Inza possesses—something that seems to belong to Inza alone.” And Hilda was thinking: “Jack Diamond is handsome, but he cannot compare with Frank Merriwell. Frank is the handsomest fellow in all the world, and in the future, as in the past, he’ll always be my hero.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER XIV FRANK’S INFLUENCE. “Drop it!” Crash! The command had come like a pistol-shot. The glass fell instantly, smashing on the polished bar, over which flowed the amber-hued liquid. “Merriwell?” Dick Starbright, pale as snow, turned as he gasped the name. “Starbright!” There was a world of surprise and reproach in Frank’s voice. Dick Starbright, standing at the bar of the Fifth Avenue Hotel, had lifted the glass of whisky to his lips when Frank stepped into the room and uttered the sharp command. The big Yale freshman dropped his glass as if it had suddenly burned his fingers. Frank came forward, his eyes fastened steadily on Dick, who leaned against the bar weakly, his pallor giving place to a flush of shame. “This is a surprise,” said Merry. “Rather!” choked Dick. “I thought you were in New Haven.” “I’m not.” “That is plain. But what are you doing here?” “I was on the point of taking a drink,” said Starbright, endeavoring to regain his composure, “when the sound of your voice caused me to let the glass slip from my fingers. Bartender, give me another glass. I’ll pay for the one I broke.” The man behind the bar, who had been picking up the pieces of glass and wiping the liquid from the polished wood, immediately sat out another glass and the bottle of whisky. “What’s yours, sir?” he asked, looking at Merriwell. But Frank simply shook his head, standing quite still and watching Dick Starbright, who, with a show of recklessness, proceeded to pour another glass of whisky. But Dick’s hand was not quite steady, and there was a look of shame on his face. However, having been detected in the act, it was plain that he meant to brazen it out.