"There are no others--not another one to compare with her! You are positively brutal when you speak of that girl. You should at least be just to her; a blind man could feel her beauty even if he couldn't see!" "I repeat that it's the type! Propinquity, another pair of dark eyes, the drooping lash, those slim fingers resting meditatively against a similar oval olive cheek, and the mischief's done." "I don't understand you," he declared blankly, and then the color flooded his face. "I believe you are in love with her yourself!" And then, ironically: "Or maybe it's just the type you fancy. Any other girl, with the same dark eyes, the drooping lash--" "You'd never be happy with Helen Holbrook if she married you, Gillespie. What you need is a clinging vine. Helen isn't that." "That is your opinion, is it, Mr. Donovan? You want me to seek my faith in the arboretum, do you? You mustn't think yourself the permanent manager of all the Holbrooks and of me, too! I have never understood just how you broke into this. And I can't see that you have done much to help anybody, if you must know my opinion." "I have every intention of helping you, Buttons. I like you. You have to me all the marks of a good fellow. My heart goes out to you in this matter. I want to see you happily married to a woman who will appreciate you. If you're not careful some girl will marry you for your money." Good humor mastered him again, and he grinned his delightful boyish grin. "I can't for the life of me imagine a girl's marrying me for anything else," he said. "Can you?" "I'll tell you what I'll do for you, my lad," I said. "I'll arrange for you to see Helen to-night! You shall meet and talk and dance with her at Port Annandale casino, in the most conventional way in the world, with me for chaperon. By reason of being Mr. Glenarm's guest here, I'm _ex officio_ a member of the club. I'll manage everything. Miss Pat shall know nothing--all on one condition only." "Well, name your price." "That you shall not mention family affairs to her at all." "God knows I shall be delighted to escape them!" His eyes brightened and he clapped his hands together. "I owe her a pair of gloves on an old wager. I have them in the village and will bring them over to-night," he said; but deception was not an easy game for him. I grinned and he colored. "It's not money, Donovan," he said, as hurt as a misjudged child. "I won't lie to you. I was to meet her at St. Agatha's pier to-night to give her the gloves." "You shall have your opportunity, but those meetings on piers won't do. I will hand her over to you at the casino at nine o'clock. I suppose I may have a dance or two?" "I suppose so," he said, so grudgingly that I laughed aloud. "Remember the compact; try to have a good time and don't talk of trouble," I enjoined, as we parted. CHAPTER XXI A BLUE CLOAK AND A SCARLET