"You know, Stephen," said Miss Bruce-Drummond while they were having their coffee in the living room, "of course you know that both those lads are in love with your nice girl." "Do you see it, too?" She laughed. "I may not know what a 'down' is, but I've still reasonably sharp eyes in my head. And the odd thing is that she doesn't know it." "Isn't it amazing? I'm watching, and wondering." "It's a pretty time o' life, Stephen," said one of the clever women he hadn't wanted to marry. "'Youth's sweet-scented manuscript,' Ethel," said Honor's stepfather. "Jimsy, will you come here a minute?" Honor called from the dining-room door. "Yes, Skipper!" He was there at a bound. "Don't you think your father would like this water-ice? I think he could--I believe he might enjoy it." He took the little covered tray out of her hands. "I'll bet he will, Skipper. You're a brick. Come on over with me, will you--and wait on the porch?" She looked back into the roomful. "Had I better? I don't suppose they'll miss me for a minute----" But Carter Van Meter was coming toward them, threading his way among people and furniture with his slight, halting limp. He looked from one to the other, questioningly. "Taking this over to my Dad," Jimsy explained. "Back in a shake." "I see. How about a ride to the beach? Supper at the ship-hotel? Celebrate a little?" "Deuce of a lot of work for Monday," Jimsy frowned. "Haven't studied a lick this week." Carter laughed. "Oh, Monday's--Monday! Come along! We can't"--he turned to Honor--"be by ourselves to-night, with the celeb. here. Honor has to stay and play-pretty with her." "Well ... if we don't make it too late----" Jimsy turned and sped away with Honor's offering for James King. Honor looked at Carter. His eyes were very bright; he looked more excited, now, some way, than he had at the game. Poor old Carter. He wanted, she supposed, to do something for Jimsy ... to give him a wonderful party ... to spend money on him ... to excel and to shine in _his_ way. But--the ship-hotel--and his father over there all day in the darkened room--For the first time in her honest life she stooped to guile. "I'll be down in a minute, Carter," she said and ran upstairs, through the hall, down the backstairs, cut through the kitchen and across the wet and springy lawn to the King place. She waited in the shadow of the house until he came out. "Jimsy!" "Skipper!" "I slipped out--sh ... Jimsy, I--_please_ don't go with Carter to-night! I don't mean to interfere or--or nag, Jimsy,--you know that, don't you?" She slipped a little on the wet grass in her thin slippers, and laid hold of his arm to steady herself. "But--it worries me. You're the finest, the most wonderful person in the world, and I trust you more than I trust myself, but--I know how boys are about--things--and--" she turned her face to the dark house where so many "Wild Kings" had lived and moved and had their unhappy being--"I couldn't _bear_ it if----"