--" Gerard laughingly doubted.

"I don't see anyone else who happens; the rest of them are just always
here," she confirmed, shrugging her shoulders.

He regarded her with the gay indulgence one shows an agreeable child.
"Then, all thanks for the welcome. I shall try to live up to it, if you
will not expect too much."

"Oh, but I shall!"

"Then perhaps I had better retreat at once?"

"You might try, first. Don't you think so, Flavia?"

"I think we might go in," Flavia smilingly suggested from the threshold.
"We could assume Mr. Gerard's safety so far."

"Come on, Corwin B.," his father summoned again.

But Corrie sat still in his place, leaning on his steering-wheel and
gazing curiously at his cousin and Gerard. Nor did he follow the group
into the house; instead, he took the car and Jack Rupert around to the
garage.

A little later, when Flavia Rose went upstairs to make ready for dinner,
Isabel followed her, frankly inquisitive.

"Is this Mr. Gerard the real Gerard, the Gerard who races cars?" the
examination commenced, as soon as the cousins were alone.

"He is Allan Gerard," Flavia stated. "Did you have a nice game, this
afternoon?"

The distraction was put aside.

"Oh, pretty fair. I walked home across the links and left the runabout
at the club. Did you ever meet Mr. Gerard before? You seem to know each
other pretty well."

Flavia's delicate color flushed over her face; for an instant she again
felt Gerard's firm arm around her and encountered his concerned eyes
bent upon her own, as they stood on the stairs of the grand-stand.
Truthfulness was the atmosphere of the household, the truthfulness born
of fearless affection and cordial sympathy of feeling, but now she used
an evasion, almost for the first time in her life.

"It is Corrie who knows Mr. Gerard, Isabel," she explained, a trifle
slowly. "You remember that race when he helped Corrie, last summer?
To-day Corrie saw him playing ball, and brought him to meet us."

"Oh! Yes, I remember the race, of course; I was there. But I did not
know Allan Gerard was--well, _looked_ like that. How long will he be
here?"

"Papa and Corrie asked him to stay until the Cup race is over."

There was a pause. Isabel walked over to one of the long mirrors and
studied her own vigorously handsome image, then turned her head and
regarded Flavia with the perfect complacency and mischievous malice of a
young kitten.

"Good sport," she anticipated.

Flavia ca