y," dryly.

"But you can't get away from the Calabrian's beauty," generously.

"No." The bearded man extinguished his cigarette and rose, laying a
_carte-de-visite_ on the tabouret. "More, I should not care to get away
from it. Good evening," pleasantly. The music stopped. He passed on into
the crowd.

Harrigan reached over and picked up the card. "Suffering shamrocks! if
Molly could only see me now," he murmured. "I wonder if I made any breaks?
The grand duke, and me hobnobbing with him like a waiter! James, this is
all under your hat. We'll keep the card where Molly won't find it."

Young men began to drift in and out. The air became heavy with smoke, the
prevailing aroma being that of Turkish tobacco of which Harrigan was not
at all fond. But his cigar was so good that he was determined not to stir
until the coal began to tickle the end of his nose. Since Molly knew where
he was there was no occasion to worry.

Abbott came in, pulled a cigarette case out of his pocket, and impatiently
struck a match. His hands shook a little, and the flare of the match
revealed a pale and angry countenance.

"Hey, Abbott, here's a seat. Get your second wind."

"Thanks." Abbott dropped into the chair and smoked quickly. "Very stuffy
out there. Too many."

"You look it. Having a good time?"

"Oh, fine!" There was a catch in the laugh which followed, but Harrigan's
ear was not trained for these subtleties of sound, "How are you making
out?"

"I'm getting acclimated. Where's the colonel to-night? He ought to be
around here somewhere."

"I left him a few moments ago."

"When you see him again, send him in. He's a live one, and I like to hear
him talk."

"I'll go at once," crushing his cigarette in the Jeypore bowl.

"What's your hurry? You look like a man who has just lost his job."

"Been steering a German countess. She was wound up to turn only one way,
and I am groggy. I'll send the colonel over. By-by."

"Now, what's stung the boy?"

Nora was enjoying herself famously. The men hummed around her like bees
around the sweetest rose. From time to time she saw Courtlandt hovering
about the outskirts. She was glad he had come: the lepidopterist is latent
or active in most women; to impale the butterfly, the moth falls easily
into the daily routine. She was laughing and jesting with the men. Her
mother stood by, admiringly. This time Courtlandt gently pushed his way to
Nora's side.

"May I have a dance?" he asked.

"