"Only I know of him," smiled Minot. The smile died from his face. For he saw bright tears on the long lashes of the Gaiety lady. She leaned close. "Mr. Minot," she said, "it is I who need a friend. Not Harrowby. I am here in a strange country--without funds--alone. Helpless. Mr. Minot. You could not be so cruel." "I--I--I'm sorry," said Minot uncomfortably. The lady was an actress, and she acted now, beautifully. "I--I feel so desolate," she moaned, dabbing daintily at her eyes. "You will help me. It can not be I am mistaken in you. I thought--did I imagine it--this morning when I sang for you--you liked me--just a little?" Nervously Minot rose from his chair and stood looking down at her. He tried to answer, but his voice seemed lost. "Just a very little?" She, too, rose and placed her butterfly hands on his shoulders. "You do like me--just a little, don't you?" Her pleading eyes gazed into his. It was a touching scene. To be besought thus tenderly by a famous beauty in the secluded parlor of a southern hotel! The touch of her hands on his shoulders thrilled him. The odor of Jockey Club-- It was at this instant that Mr. Minot, looking past the Gaiety lady's beautiful golden coiffure, beheld Miss Cynthia Meyrick standing in the doorway of that parlor, a smile on her face. She disappeared on the instant, but Gabrielle Rose's "big scene" was ruined beyond repair. "My dear lady"--gently Minot slipped from beneath her lovely hands--"I assure you I do like you--more than a little. But unfortunately my loyalty to Harrowby--no, I won't say that--circumstances are such that I can not be your friend in this instance. Though, if I could serve you in any other way--" Gabrielle Rose snapped her fingers. "Very well." Her voice had a metallic ring now. "We shall see what we shall see." "Undoubtedly. I bid you good day." As Minot, somewhat dazed, walked along the veranda of the De la Pax he met Miss Meyrick. There was a mischievous gleam in her eye. "Really, it was so tactless of me, Mr. Minot," she said. "A thousand apologies." He pretended not to understand. "My untimely descent on the parlor." She beamed on him. "I presume it happened because romance draws me--like a magnet. Even other people's." Minot smiled wanly, and for once sought to end their talk. "Oh, do sit down just a moment," she pleaded. "I want to thank you for the great service you did Harrowby and me--last night." "Wha--what service?" asked Minot, sinking into a chair. She leaned close, and spoke in a whisper. "Your part in the kidnaping. Harrowby has told me. It was sweet of you--so unselfish." "Damn!" thought Minot. And then he thought two more. "To put yourself out that our wedding may be a success!" Was this sarcasm, Minot wondered. "I'm so glad to know about it, Mr. Minot. It shows me at last--just what you think is"--she looked away--"best for me." "Best for you? What do you mean?"