For a moment Wall showed fight, but he did not much care for the light he saw in the elder Harrowby's eyes. He recognized a vast difference in brothers. "Oh--very well," he said. The check was written, and the exchange made. "Since you are convinced I am the owner of the yacht," said George Harrowby, rising, "I take it you will leave it at once?" "As soon as I can remove my belongings," Wall said. "A most unfortunate affair all round." "A fortunate one for you," commented Mr. Minot. Wall glared. "My boy," he said angrily, "did any one ever tell you you were a bad-luck jinx?" "Never," smiled Minot. "You look like one to me," growled Martin Wall. George Harrowby arranged to keep the crew Wall had engaged, in order to get the _Lady Evelyn_ back to New York. It was thought best for the owner to stay aboard until Wall had gathered his property and departed, so Allan Harrowby and Minot alone returned to San Marco. As they crossed the plaza Allan said: "By gad--everything looks lovely now. Jenkins out of the way, good old George side-stepping the title, the policy safe in my pocket. Not a thing in the way!" "It's almost too good to be true," replied Minot, with a very mirthless smile. "It must be a great relief to you, old boy. You have worked hard. Must feel perfectly jolly over all this?" "Me?" said Minot. "Oh, I can hardly contain myself for joy. I feel like twining orange blossoms in my hair----" He walked on, kicking the gravel savagely at each step. Not a thing in the way now. Not a single, solitary, hopeful, little thing. CHAPTER XIX MR. MINOT GOES THROUGH FIRE The Duchess of Lismore elected to give her dinner and dance in Miss Meyrick's honor as near to the bright Florida stars as she could. On the top floor of the De la Pax was a private dining-room, only partially enclosed, with a picturesque view of the palm-dotted courtyard below. Adjacent to this was a sun-room with a removable glass roof, and this the duchess had ordered transformed into a ballroom. There in the open the newest society dances should rise to offend the soft southern sky. Being a good general, the hostess was early on the scene, marshaling her forces. TO her there came Cynthia Meyrick, radiant and lovely and wide-eyed on the eve of her wedding. "How sweet you look, Cynthia," said the duchess graciously. "But then, you long ago solved the problem of what becomes you." "I have to look as sweet as I can," replied the girl wearily. "All the rest of my life I shall have to try and live up to the nobility." She sighed. "To think," remarked the duchess, busy over a great bowl of flowers, "that to-morrow night this time little Cynthia will be Lady Harrowby. I suppose you'll go to Rakedale Hall for part of the year at least?" "I suppose so."