f. All the household understood
Isabel's propensity for flirtation--and its utter lack of significance.
If she had detained Gerard, not Gerard her, her lover-cousin had no
ground for especial apprehension.

"Punk weather," he commented, coming back.

"Dullest I ever experienced," supplemented his guest decidedly.

Mr. Rose set a paper-weight on the letter open before him, and lit a
cigar.

"We were discussing the buying of another automobile, Gerard, when you
came in," he imparted. "Come sit down for half an hour before we
dress--we not needing so long as the ladies for it--and give us your
advice on the choice."

"And I'll give you one of my monogram cigarettes," volunteered Corrie,
slipping a hand affectionately through Gerard's arm. "Oh, no--I don't
smoke them, but I like to carry them. And when you want something extra
fine, you ask Corwin B. Rose for one of his smokes. Let's sit here,
together."

V

THE VASE OF AL-MANSOR

On the threshold of his father's model garage Corrie stopped, surveying
the scene presented in the centre of the huge, lofty stone room, bare
except for the five automobiles ranged around and their countless
appurtenances disposed upon walls and shelves.

"Excuse me, but when did you two last wash?" he jeered.

The two men beside the Mercury racing car looked up at the figure in the
sunny doorway.

"I don't care to try to prove that I ever did," returned Gerard. "The
evidence is against me. But Rupert had his beauty bath this morning, all
right. You're looking rather disarranged, yourself; perhaps the course
was a trifle dusty."

They laughed silently across at one another. The trim garments of all
three men were gray with dust and oil, their faces were streaked and
spotted with the caked road-soil. There was little difference in color
between Gerard's brown ripples of hair, Corrie's blonde locks and the
black head of the mechanician who bent over the motor.

"If this is practice work, _what_ is the race going to be like?"
speculated Corrie, dragging off his gauntlets. The recent
speed-exhilaration was still heavily upon him; as with his sister, the
darker shading of brows and lashes always gave his fair-tinted face a
warm vividness of expression. "The course is in fierce shape, already. I
say--why did you especially warn me that the road wouldn't be fit for
fast going until to-morrow, then get out in your own machine and break
all practice records for the fastest lap? Tr