“You certainly do look fine to-day!” burst from Bob. It wasn’t exactly a hexameter nor yet an iambic mode of expression. But it had to come out. Roses blossomed on the girl’s proud cheek. Bob’s explosive and uncontrollable ardency would have been disconcerting, under any circumstances, but under such as those of the present—Miss Gerald’s eyes flashed. “Isn’t—isn’t that rather irrelevant?” she said after a moment’s pause. “I—yes, I guess it is,” confessed Bob, and his head slowly fell. He looked at the hard marble pavement. A moment the girl stood with breast stirring, like an indignant goddess. “Have you—have you any information to volunteer?” she said at length icily. “Oh, I don’t have to volunteer,” answered Bob. And then rushed on to a Niagara of disaster. “Why don’t you ask that hammer-thrower? I suppose you’d believe _anything_”—he couldn’t keep back the bitter jealousy—“he tells you.” An instant eyes met eyes. Bob’s now were stubborn, if forlorn and miserable. They braved the indignant, outraged violet ones. He even laughed, savagely, moodily. What would he not have given if she would only believe him, instead of—? But it was not to be. Yet this girl had his very soul. His miserable and forlorn eyes told her that. Whose eyes would have turned first, in that visual contest is a matter of uncertainty, for just then the enthusiastic voice of Gee-gee was heard “through the land.” “Why, Mr. Bennett—you here? So glad to see you!” Bob forgot all about heroics. Gee-gee drifted in as if she were greeting an old and very dear friend, instead of a casual acquaintance, upon whom, indeed, she had rather forced herself, on a certain memorable evening. Bob wilted. When he recovered a little, Miss Gerald was gone. Below them the gardener who had caught Bob’s eye now drew a bit nearer. Bob turned on Gee-gee. CHAPTER XVII—A GOOD DEAL OF GEE-GEE “See here,” he said rather savagely, “this has got to stop.” Gee-gee stared. “Bless its little heart, what is it talking about?” “You know,” said Bob. The fact that he now saw Gwendoline Gerald rejoined afar by the hammer-thrower did not improve his temper. “Pardon me,” returned Gee-gee, tossing her auburn hair, “if I fail to connect. Mrs. Ralston has been good enough to treat us as her regular guests. And, indeed, why shouldn’t she?” With much dignity. “But if you feel I ain’t good enough to speak to your Lord Highmightiness, except at stage doors and alleys and roof gardens—” Cuttingly. “This isn’t a question of social amenities,” said Bob. Gee-gee didn’t know what “amenities” meant and that made _her_ madder. “You’ve come down here to raise a regular hornet’s nest.”