They were very evenly matched; they always had been, never asking odds or offering handicaps in anything. It had always been so; at the traps she could break as many clay birds as he could; she rode as well, drove as well; their averages usually balanced. From the beginning--even as children--it had been always give and take and no favour. And so it was now; sets were even; it was a matter of service. Luncheon interrupted a drawn game; Stephanie, flushed, smiling, came around to his side of the net to join him on the way to the house: "How do you keep up your game, Louis? Or do I never improve? It's curious, isn't it, that we are always deadlocked." Bare-armed, bright hair in charming disorder, she swung along beside him with that quick, buoyant step so characteristic of a spirit ever undaunted, saluting the others on the terrace with high-lifted racquet. "Nobody won," she said. "Come on, Alice, if you're going to scrub before luncheon. Thank you, Louis; I've had a splendid game--" She stretched out a frank hand to him, going, and the tips of her fingers just brushed his. His sister gave him a tragic look, which he ignored, and a little later luncheon was on and Cameron garrulous, and Querida his own gentle, expressive, fascinating self, devotedly receptive to any woman who was inclined to talk to him or to listen. That evening Neville said to his sister: "There's a train at midnight; I don't think I'll stay over--" "Why?" "I want to be in town early." "Why?" "The early light is the best." "I thought you'd stopped painting for a while." "I have, practically. There's one thing I keep on with, in a desultory sort of way--" "What is it?" "Oh, nothing of importance--" he hesitated--"that Is, it may be important. I can't be sure, yet." "Will you tell me what it is?" "Why, yes. It's a portrait--a study--" "Of whom, dear?" "Oh, of nobody you know--" "Is it a portrait of Valerie West?" "Yes," he said, carelessly. There was a silence; in the starlight his shadowy face was not clearly visible to his sister. "Are you leaving just to continue that portrait?" "Yes. I'm interested in it." "Don't go," she said, in a low voice. "Don't be silly," he returned shortly. "Dear, I am not silly, but I suspect you are beginning to be. And over a model!" "Lily, you little idiot," he laughed, exasperated; "what in the world is worrying you?" "Your taking that girl to the St. Regis. It isn't like you." "Good Lord! How many girls do you suppose I've taken to various places?" "Not many," she said, smiling at him. "Your reputation for gallantries is not alarming." Ho reddened. "You're perfectly right. That sort of thing never appealed to me." "Then why does it appeal to you now?" "It doesn't. Can't you understand that this girl is entirely different--" "Yes, I understand. And that is what worries me." "It needn't. It's precisely like taking any girl you know and like--"