"It is perfectly true, Mrs. Sprowl. My admittance included a livery and the perennial prerogative of amusing people. But I had no money, no family affiliations with the very amiable people who found me useful. Only, in common with them, I had the inherent taste for idleness and the genius for making it endurable to you all. So you welcomed me very warmly; and you have been very kind to me.... But, somewhere or other--in some forgotten corner of me--an odd and old-fashioned idea awoke the other day.... I think perhaps it awoke when you reminded me that to serve you was one thing and to marry among you something very different." "Ricky! Do you want to drive me to the yelling verge of distraction? I didn't say or intimate or dream any such thing! You know perfectly well you're not only with us but _of_ us. Nobody ever imagined otherwise. But you can't marry any girl you pick out. Sometimes she won't; sometimes her family won't. It's the same everywhere. You have no money. Of course I intend that you shall eventually marry money--What the devil are you laughing at?" "I beg your pardon----" "I said that you would marry well. Was that funny? I also said, once--and I repeat it now, that I have my own plans for one or two girls--Strelsa Leeds included. I merely asked you to respect my wishes in that single matter; and bang! you go off and blow up and maroon yourself and sulk until nobody knows what's the matter with you. Don't be a fool. Everybody likes you; every girl _can't_ love you--but I'll bet many of 'em do.... Pick one out and come to me--if that's your trouble. Go ahead and pick out what you fancy; and ten to one it will be all right, and between you and me we'll land the little lady!" "You're tremendously kind----" "I know I am. I'm always doing kindnesses--and nobody likes me, and they'd bite my head off, every one of 'em--if they weren't afraid it would disagree with them," she added grimly. Quarren rose and came over to the bedside. "Good-bye, Mrs. Sprowl," he said. "And--I like you--somehow--I really do." "The devil you do," said the old lady. "It's a curious fact," he insisted, smiling. "Get out with you, Ricky! And I want you to come----" "No--please." "What?" "No." "Why?" "I want to see some real people again. I've forgotten what they resemble." "That's a damned insolent remark!" she gasped. "Not meant to be. _You_ are real enough, Heaven knows. But," and his smile faded--"I've taken a month off to think it out. And, do you know, thinking being an unaccustomed luxury, I've enjoyed it. Imagine my delight and surprise, Mrs. Sprowl, when I discovered that my leisurely reflections resulted in the discovery that I had a mind--a real one--capable of reason and conclusions. And so when I actually came to a conclusion my joy knew no bounds----" "Ricky! Stop those mental athletics! Do you hear? I've a toothache and a backache and I can't stand 'em!"