“And this is Mr. Benton, Elinor’s father,” Geraldine continued. “Glad to know you, Mr. Druid,” Hugh said as they shook hands. “I’ve always admired your work——” Druid’s laugh was frank and hearty. “And I yours, Mr. Benton,” he countered. “It’s a far more popular art.” Hugh Benton grinned understandingly. “We artists,” he began, but the bang of jazz for the next dance drowned his unfinished epigram. “Will you dance, Miss Benton?” Templeton turned to Elinor. He held the girl closely to him as they circled about the room. “You’re ravishingly beautiful to-night,” he whispered, his voice vibrating with passionate tenderness. “Can’t we manage to slip away for a few moments so that I can have you to myself?” “I don’t see how we can possibly get away,” she pouted prettily. “After this dance Nell will be waiting to introduce you to half a dozen girls, and they will monopolize you for the rest of the evening.” “There isn’t a soul I want to meet—I only accepted this invitation in order to be near you,” he replied quickly. “Surely you can think of some way to rescue me from a lot of uninteresting girls. I can’t see anyone in this room but you—dear.” Elinor thrilled delightedly at the “dear”—it was the first term of endearment he had used in addressing her. “I’ll tell you what I will do,” she planned quickly. “After this dance, I’ll run upstairs for a wrap, while you manage to disappear through that French window at the end of the room—it leads into the garden and at the end of the path, you’ll find an adorable little summer-house. Wait there until I join you. But we can only remain away a few moments,” she continued as he started to voice his gratitude. “The lion of the hour will be missed, you know, and a search instituted for him.” “Five minutes alone with the most bewitching girl in the world,” he assured her, “will compensate me for the balance of the evening.” It was less hard than Elinor’s biased imagination had supposed for the man to slip away unobserved to the “adorable little summer-house” at the end of the path. “My, but I’ve had a lot of dodging to do,” Elinor exclaimed breathlessly as she entered a few minutes later. “Whenever you’re anxious to avoid people, one seems to spring up like a jack-out-of-the-box at every turn!” “Elinor,” Templeton murmured, reaching for her hand, and holding it close within his own. “Do you know why I begged you to grant me a few moments alone?” “I can’t imagine,” she replied coyly, “unless it was for the purpose of admiring this wonderful moon.” Elinor Benton’s eyes turned upward toward the silvery shining circle that beamed down upon them through the tangled vines of the summer house. She was tantalizingly close to the man who still held her warm little fingers. The perfume that clung about her soft young body stung all the man’s unbridled senses like a whiplash. His eyes and brain saw red as he threw out his arms and clasped her roughly to him, raining kisses on her upturned face.