"Of course, I could pair off Jane Gerard with Larry Pendexter, though I was thinking of keeping him myself...." She pursed her lips, and stood for a moment with her eyes half-closed. Presently, she said: "I think maybe _it could_ be arranged." And laughing, now, added: "You'll surely come, won't you?" "Come!" he exclaimed, beaming with joy. "I'd come in the face of a million-dollar retainer from John D. Rockefeller--I would, indeed!" A few minutes later, when she faced her hostess to bid her good-night, that estimable lady, not altogether satisfied with Leslie's nonchalant manner, laid her hand on her young guest's shoulder, and drew her to one side. "I hope, my dear," she said insinuatingly, "that it's not going to be Eliot Beekman. He's all right, little one--handsome, and clean, too. But what you need is money--don't forget that--particularly now. Take my advice--Eliot is dangerous." The lady sighed. "I've known such men--I knew one of them once." Her eyes sought the portly form of Pallet-Searing across the big room. "And I married Pallet-Searing. It's been worth while." But there was a sigh in her voice, the girl thought, as she repeated again, "worth while. Run along now! Mrs. Wilkinson has been looking everywhere for you. Even Peter V. looked in to take you home. They've both gone. But here comes Eliot now." And turning to Beekman, the lady shook her finger at him. "I've been warning Leslie against you, Eliot," she said, frankly, telling him to his face what she had said behind his back. "I've been warning her that she must look for money. And, oh, by the way, Eliot! Somebody's been here after you to-night. We searched everywhere for you except in one place, and nobody is ever allowed to look there. Colonel Morehead is the man." Beekman started. "You don't by any chance happen to know----" "Business," interposed Mrs. Pallet-Searing; "at least, he said it was." Beekman gave vent to a slight gesture of annoyance. "I wish I might have seen him. But he's gone, I suppose?" Mrs. Pallet-Searing laughed outright. "You surely don't regret the fact that we couldn't find you, Eliot?" Beekman laughed sheepishly, and shot a glance of guilt toward Leslie. "That isn't the point. It simply gives me an involuntary pang when somebody looks me up on business and I miss them. I have a feeling that, somehow, I may have lost an opportunity; and chaps like me can't well afford to miss a man like Colonel Morehead." " ... How are you going to get home, child?" suddenly asked her hostess of Leslie. "Your machine is out there, but----" Leslie hesitated for an instant. "Possibly Mr. Beekman ..." she laughed mischievously. Beekman looked up with mock gravity. "Miss Wilkinson," he said, "you've heard that old saying about the game and the name? Come!" And he took her by the arm.