And Monte would have no answer. He realized that. As a friend he had, of course, certain rights; but they were distinctly limited. It was, for instance, no business of his whether she went to Étois or Japan or India. By no stretch of the imagination could he make it his business--though it affected his whole schedule, though it affected her whole life. As a friend he would be justified, perhaps, in throwing young Hamilton out of the door if he happened to be around when the man was actually annoying her; but there was no way in which he could guard her against such annoyances in the future. He had no authority that extended beyond the moment; nor was it possible for Marjory herself to give him that authority. Young Hamilton, if he chose, could harry her around the world, and it would be none of Monte's business. There was something wrong with a situation of that sort. If he had only been born her brother or father, or even a first cousin, then it might be possible to do something, because, if necessary, he could remain always at hand. He wondered vaguely if there were not some law that would make him a first cousin. He was on the point of suggesting it when a bell jangled solemnly in the hall. The girl clutched his arm. "I'm afraid he's come again," she gasped. Monte threw back his shoulders. "Fine," he smiled. "It could n't be better." "But I don't want to see him! I won't see him!" "There is n't the slightest need in the world of it," he nodded. "You go upstairs, and I'll see him." But, clinging to his arm, she drew him into the hall and toward the stairs. The bell rang again--impatiently. "Come," she insisted. He tried to calm her. "Steady! Steady! I promise you I won't make a scene." "But he will. Oh, you don't know him. I won't have it. Do you hear? I won't have it." To Madame Courcy, who appeared, she whispered:-- "Tell him I refuse to see him again. Tell him you will call the gendarmes." "It seems so foolish to call in those fellows when the whole thing might be settled quietly right now," pleaded Monte. He turned eagerly toward the door. "If you don't come away, Monte," she said quietly, "I won't ever send for you again." Reluctantly he followed her up the stairs as the bell jangled harshly, wildly. CHAPTER IV A PROPOSAL Dejectedly, Monte seated himself upon a trunk in the midst of a scene of fluffy chaos. Marie had swooped in from the next room, seized one armful, and returned in consternation as her mistress stood poised at the threshold. Then, with her face white, Marjory closed the door and locked it. "He's down there," she informed Monte. Monte glanced at his watch. "It's quarter of twelve," he announced. "I'll give him until twelve to leave."