"Boots, dear," said Nina, who adored him, "tell me what to do. Tell me what has gone amiss between my brother and Eileen. Something has. And whatever it is, it began last autumn--that day when--you remember the incident?" Boots nodded. "Well, it seemed to upset everybody, somehow. Philip left the next day; do you remember? And Eileen has never been quite the same. Of course, I don't ascribe it to that unpleasant episode--even a young girl gets over a shock in a day. But the--the change--or whatever it is--dated from that night. . . . They--Philip and Eileen--had been inseparable. It was good for them--for her, too. And as for Phil--why, he looked about twenty-one! . . . Boots, I--I had hoped--expected--and I was right! They _were_ on the verge of it!" "I think so, too," he said. She looked up curiously. "Did Philip ever say--" "No; he never _says_, you know." "I thought that men--close friends--sometimes did." "Sometimes--in romantic fiction. Phil wouldn't; nor," he added smilingly, "would I." "How do you know, Boots?" she asked, leaning back to watch him out of mischievous eyes. "How do you know what you'd do if you were in love--with Gladys, for example?" "I know perfectly well," he said, "because I am." "In love!" incredulously. "Of course." "Oh--you mean Drina." "Who else?" he asked lightly. "I thought you were speaking seriously. I"--all her latent instinct for such meddling aroused--"I thought perhaps you meant Gladys." "Gladys who?" he asked blandly. "Gladys Orchil, silly! People said--" "Oh, Lord!" he exclaimed; "if people 'said,' then it's all over. Nina! do I look like a man on a still hunt for a million?" "Gladys is a beauty!" retorted Nina indignantly. "With the intellect of a Persian kitten," he nodded. "I--that was not a nice thing to say. I'm sorry. I'm ashamed. But, do you know, I have come to regard my agreement with Drina so seriously that I take absolutely no interest in anybody else." "Try to be serious, Boots," said Nina. "There are dozens of nice girls you ought to be agreeable to. Austin and I were saying only last night what a pity it is that you don't find either of the Minster twins interesting--" "I might find them compoundly interesting," he admitted, "but unfortunately there's no chance in this country for multiple domesticity and the simpler pleasures of a compound life. It's no use, Nina; I'm not going to marry any girl for ever so long--anyway, not until Drina releases me on her eighteenth birthday. Hello!--somebody's coming--and I'm off!" "I'm not at home; don't go!" said Nina, laying one hand on his arm to detain him as a card was brought up. "Oh, it's only Rosamund Fane! I _did_ promise to go to the Craigs' with her. . . . Do you mind if she comes up?" "Not if you don't," said Boots blandly. He could not endure Rosamund and she detested him; and Nina, who was perfectly aware of this, had just enough of perversity in her to enjoy their meeting.