had said some time ago, “I really was at home, at just the time I said, only this new butler does hate you so—” 

 “You might speak to him about it—you might even get rid of him,” replied the young man, in the tone of one deeply imposed upon. 

 “Good butlers are so rare nowadays.” 

 “And are devoted friends so easy to find?” 

 “No, but a good deal easier than butlers, Eddie dear.” 

 The young man gave an exclamation of annoyance. “Let us find some place out of the way. I want to speak to you seriously—” he began, and they moved out of earshot—presumably to a secluded spot of Eddie’s choosing. 

 When they had gone Ben felt distinctly lonely, and, what was more absurd, slighted, as if Eddie had deliberately taken the girl away from him—out of reach. How silly, he thought, for Eddie to want to talk to her, when it was so clear the fellow did not know how to talk to her. How silly to say, in the sulky tone, “Are devoted friends so easy to find?” Of course they were—for a girl like that—devoted friends, passionate lovers, and sentimental idiots undoubtedly blocked her path. 

 It might have been some comfort to him to know that in the remote spot of his own choosing, a stone bench under a purple beech, Eddie was simply going from bad to worse. 

 “Dear Crystal,” he began, with that irritating reasonableness of manner which implies that the speaker is going to be reasonable for two, “I’ve been thinking over the situation. I know that you don’t love me, but then I don’t believe you will ever be deeply in love with any one. I don’t think you are that kind of woman.” 

 “Oh, Eddie, how dreadful!” 

 “I don’t see that at all. Just as well, perhaps. You don’t want to get yourself into such a position as poor Eugenia.” 

 “I do, I would. I’d give anything to be as much in love as Eugenia.” 

 “What? With a fellow like that! A complete outsider.” 

 “Outside of what? The human race?” 

 Prev. P 12/53 next