But his scheme of self-abasement--elaborated in the silence of his restless nights--never found its way to paper, for Dick had determined that the time had come for him to take a hand in the affairs of the two. "They must find out that they are in love," he said quite decidedly to himself, "and who's to help them to it but me? They'll never discover it as long as this war lasts"--in which Dick was wrong, not really being versed by experience in love-making. He decided to give a party. Now, since the _Argus_ editorial on the "Unpopularity of Civilization," Patsy had resolutely refused all invitations where she thought Ralph might be, and as he was doing the same, the two had had no meetings. That must be stopped. Dick called Patsy up. "I'm giving a party at the Rectory, Patsy. I want you. Ralph will be here and that's the chief reason I want you. He is very unhappy. He has had a great blow--" "What? What?--" stuttered Patsy. "Please tell me." "You wouldn't understand, I'm afraid. It's a long story, and I don't believe I have a right to tell you. Just believe me, Patsy, and help me brace up a hard-hit man." "But, Dick, you must tell me. I can't bear to have Ralph unhappy. Is anybody dead?" "No--no--Patsy--not that. I can't tell you--" and this amateur plotter, to whom it had never occurred until that moment that arousing a woman's curiosity and possibly suspicion over the sorrows of a man in whom she was interested, was an effective means of kindling her passion, seized the opening and put a world of mystery and meaning into his tone as he repeated, "I cannot tell you." "But I cannot meet him. You know how Ralph despises me?" "But, Patsy, I know he does not. He comes close to adoring you." "What nonsense! From you, too! What assurance can I have that he won't fly into a rage and berate me for knitting--for I shall bring my knitting?" "Do--do--and I'll be responsible for Ralph. You'll come?" "Ye-e-es." "I wonder," said this intriguing parson, "if I'm interfering with the work of the gods, and shall make the usual mess of it." But he stuck to his plan, and that afternoon when he dropped into the _Argus_ office casually suggested that he was giving a party and that Ralph was to come. "And Patsy is to be there, and you are not to quarrel with her." "Does Patsy know I'm coming?" Ralph asked anxiously. "She does, and she consents." "I wonder why," reflected Ralph. "How should I know the vagaries of Patsy's mind?" the parson replied.