Helen did not give him so much of her time without an object. She cared little for Cryder, and few of her doings were unprompted by motive; life was too brief. “You met Miss Suydam last night, did you not?” she asked, when Cryder was comfortably established in an easy-chair near the fire. “Yes, for a moment. I was a little put out by Duncan’s attack on me, and only stayed for a few words. I needed the solace of a cigarette.” “I read the account of the affair in this morning’s papers. Mr. Duncan’s remarks were purely foolish, as he must have realized when he saw them in print. However, you have the consolation of knowing that after your reply he will not be likely to attack you again. But I am glad you met Miss Suydam. She will interest you as a study. She is all the rage at present. Every other man in town is in love with her.” Cryder turned to her with some interest in his eyes. “Is she so very fascinating? She is certainly handsome—yes—stylishly handsome.” “Oh, she is a beauty! Such a unique type! And she is quite as different from other people herself. That is her great trouble. She is called a terrible flirt, but it is the men’s fault, not hers. She is always looking for something, and can never find it.” “Sad and strange! Is she a young woman with yearnings?” “Not at all. She is the most sensible woman I know. She is merely unusually clever, consequently she is very lonely. I do not believe any man will ever satisfy her. She is like the sleeping princess in the enchanted castle. She shuts herself up in that wonderful house of hers and dreams of the lover who never comes.” “You touch my fancy; and what do you mean by her wonderful house?” “That house would delight your author’s soul. Every room is the materialization of a dream, as Hermia would say;” and she gave him an account of her friend’s inartistic but original abode. Cryder listened with much interest. Romance was a dead-letter to him, but he was alive to the picturesque. He concluded that it would be quite enchanting to make love to a woman in a feudal library or an Indian jungle, and more than satisfactory to awaken the sleeping beauty. It would be a charming episode for his present brief stay in New York, altogether quite the choicest specimen in his herbarium. What she was waiting for was a combination of brain and skill. “You have made me want to know her,” he said, “but, of course, she did not ask me to call.” “I will take you to see her some time.” “That is very good of you. Some afternoon when you have nothing better to do.” “Come on Monday. That is her day. You won’t have much chance to talk to her, but then you can go again as soon as you like.” Cryder took out his note-book and penciled a memorandum, “On Monday, then.” Helen concluded that if she had been born a man she would have elected diplomacy as a career. * * * * * CHAPTER XIV.