“Oh, but I’m not always content. Sometimes I become very much discouraged, and heartsick—I’m so terribly alone in the world. The Thurstons are good, kind people, but somehow I just can’t unburden myself to them. We Lees, of Virginia, are so terribly proud, you know. If I only had someone to take a little interest in my affairs—the small amount of money that I have invested properly would mean so much to me.” Had this bald bid come from any man he knew, Hugh Benton would have smiled his understanding smile and put it from his mind. But now so thoroughly had Geraldine DeLacy hypnotized the man who for years had been without sympathy or the flattery that is man’s meed that he did not even see that it was a blatant asking for aid. All he could see was that here was a beautiful, a sympathetic, an understanding woman in financial straits, that she, proud as she was, had confided in him, had given him confidence for confidence in the short time it had taken them to be such good friends, and that he knew he could aid her. Why, he could make it possible for her to be independent of any of these friends or relatives. It would not be necessary for her to sit up late at night, dimming her wonderful eyes, pricking those dainty fingers making gowns in which she looked so amazingly well dressed. He could imagine how hard it was for her to have to depend on even such relations as the Thurstons. Here was his opportunity to show himself a real friend—not the casual acquaintance of a few idle hours at a dance, talking while the music purred and the moon made it an hour for confidences. “Why not let me help you?” he asked eagerly. “You know, investing money is my business, and when I hear of something good, let me double or triple that little sum for you?” “Why, Mr. Benton!” Geraldine exclaimed, concealing her delight with well-feigned emotion. “You surely wouldn’t bother with me! I couldn’t let a busy man like you.” “It would be the greatest pleasure, Mrs. DeLacy.” “But it—it seems like such an imposition! Oh, it—it actually looks as though I—I was hinting—Oh, Mr. Benton, I wouldn’t have you think that for the world!” “Nonsense! I don’t think anything of the kind. You happened to mention your affairs and I happened to be in a position to render you a little assistance—that’s all there is about it.” “All?—Why—I—I—” Geraldine covered her eyes with her handkerchief and began to sob softly. “Oh, please,” Hugh drew her hands from her eyes and patted her shoulder consolingly. “I can’t bear to see a woman cry.” “You’re like all men in that respect,” Geraldine dried her eyes obediently and smiled up at him. “But in every other way you’re so different—I never met anyone like you—my friend. I won’t attempt to thank you now; I should only cry again. Hadn’t we better join the others?” Geraldine rose from her chair.