“Yes,” said Helen, “I know; but you will have to stand it. Good-bye, Hermia. A walk would not hurt you; you are looking pale.” “Aren’t you going to let me sit down for a moment?” asked Winston. “No, it is getting late; and, besides, Hermia doesn’t want you. Come.” They went out, and Miss Starbruck remarked: “That is the average man of to-day, I suppose. They were different when I was young.” “Oh, no; that is not the average man,” said Hermia; “that is only the average society man. They are two distinct species, I assure you.” “Well, at all events, I prefer him to that dreadful Mr. Quintard. I hope he will not come to this house, Hermia.” “Oh, I have invited him,” said Hermia, indifferently. “He shines beside some who come here, if you did but know it.” “Then I am thankful I do not know it,” exclaimed Miss Starbruck. “I think I will go up-stairs and talk to Miss Newton.” “No,” said Hermia, “stay and talk to me. I am bored! I hate to be alone! Sit down.” * * * * * CHAPTER XXIII. PLATONIC PROSPECTS. She met Quintard the next afternoon at a tea. She was standing with a group of people when he joined her. After a moment he asked her to go over to the other side of the room and talk to him. She was somewhat amused at his directness, but went with him to a sofa and ignored the rest of the company for a half-hour. At the end of that time she drew a long sigh of relief. He was not her ideal; he was commonplace. He talked very well, but with none of Cryder’s brilliancy. He was even a little didactic, a quality she detested. And he had none of the tact of an accomplished man of the world. She was not surprised to hear that he had not been to five entertainments in as many years. There was no subtle flattery in his manner; he did not appear to take any personal interest in her whatever; sometimes he appeared inattentive to what she was saying. She wondered why he had insisted upon talking to her. Moreover, he was cold, and coldness and her ideal had never shaken hands. He looked as if nothing could move that calm self-control, that slow, somewhat stiff formality. She saw him several times during the next two weeks, but never alone. In the mean time she heard much of him. His personal appearance, his wealth, his exile and its cause, made him an interesting figure, and people began to remember and compare all the tales regarding him which had floated across the Atlantic during the last five years. These tales were of a highly adventurous nature, and were embroidered and fringed. Quintard was not very grateful. He went out seldom, and got away as soon as he could. This, of course, made people wonder what he was doing.