"You're fond of him, aren't you?" I asked, beginning again to dig for the worm; for Sir Ralph was squatting beside me now, watching the point of my parasol. "Rather!" he exclaimed. "He's the finest fellow on earth. I should like to see him as happy as he deserves to be." "But you don't want him to fall in love with Maida?" "That's the last thing I should choose for either of them. Though it's early to talk of such contingencies, isn't it, as they've known each other--we've all known each other--only a few days?" "It only takes a few minutes for the most important things to happen, such as being born and dying. _Why_ should falling in love take more? It wouldn't with me." "You're young to judge." "Pooh, I've been in love several times. Now I come to think of it, I'm in love this moment--or almost. _Why_ don't you want Mr. Barrymore to fall in love with my cousin?" "It would be imprudent." "Perhaps you're falling in love with her yourself." "I shouldn't wonder." "If you'll tell me whether you are or not, I'll tell you who it is I _think_ I'm in love with." "Well, I _could_ be. Now for your secret." "I give you leave to guess." "Really?" "And truly." "Some one we've just been talking about?" "'I could be.' Oh dear, I believe this worm _is_ out after all." "This is most interesting. I don't mean about the worm. Terry's in luck for once." "But he thinks me a little girl." "Little girls can be fascinating. Besides, I'll make it my business to remind him that little girls don't take long to grow up." "Will you really? But you won't let him know about this talk?" "Sooner would I be torn in two by wild motor-cars. These confidences are sacred." "I'll say nice things about you to Maida," I volunteered. He stared for a minute, and then laughed. "I should tell you not to if I weren't certain that all the nice things in the world might be said on that subject with no more effect upon Miss Destrey than a shower of rain has on my duck's back. You must try and help me not to fall in love with her." "Why?" I asked. "Because, for one reason, she'd never fall in love with me; and for another, I couldn't in any event afford to love her, any more than can my friend Terry Barrymore." "Perhaps I'd better work her off on the Prince, and then you'd both be out of danger," said I. "It would at least save me anxiety about my friend, though I should doubtless suffer in the process," replied Sir Ralph. "I'll comfort you whenever I have time," I assured him. "Do," he entreated. "It will be a real charity. And in the meantime, I shan't be idle. I shall be working for you." "Thank you ever so much," said I. "I should be glad if you'd report progress from time to time." "I will," said he. "We'll keep each other up, won't we?" "Be-echy!" shrieked Mamma. "I've been screaming to you for the last _twenty_ minutes. Come here at once and tell me what you're doing. It's sure to be something naughty."