“You’ve simply got to sneak off on some pretext or another, and meet me at the Doric agency at three o’clock for a demonstration. They say it is perfectly wonderful—why, it hardly takes a look of gas to go a thousand miles, and its tires are literally cast iron.”

This was her summons by telephone. And Nolan, determined not to desert trusting little Eveley to the tender mercies of motor sharks, went to the Middle Member, whose position he confidently expected one day to possess, and announced that important business of a personal nature required his presence that afternoon. And because Nolan never abused privileges—or if he did was never detected in the act—and because his firm was composed of human beings and not the granite machines common to fiction, Nolan encountered no difficulty.

And Eveley went to her own employer, and smiling seductively upon him, said vaguely that some awfully important and unexpected things had come up, and could she please get off at three, if she would work particularly hard in the meantime to make up?

And because Eveley was very pretty, and withal very businesslike, and pleasant about trifles like working after hours and special grinds and such things, and because her employer was acutely conscious of her soft voice and bright eyes, he smiled in return and said:

“Yes, indeed, Miss Ainsworth, I heard you phoning about it. Go, by all means, but I do not think you will like the Doric. The tires are all right, but the cylinders are under size, and this causes a constant friction with the magneto which impairs the efficiency and makes the car a poor climber and weak on endurance runs.”

That is probably not what he said at all, but it is what Eveley understood him to say, and from it she gathered that she might go at three, but that there was something perfectly terrible about the Doric that made it impossible for her to buy it, but of course she could not disappoint the salesman with the deep blue eyes, and so she would have the demonstration anyhow.

From three o’clock on, the afternoon was a perfect daze of magnetos and batteries and gas feeders and real leather upholstery. But Eveley interrupted once, to run into a drug-store to the public telephone, to call Kitty, and when she had her friend on the wire she said eagerly:

“Oh, Kit, we are trying out the Doric. It is awfully good some ways, and rotten some ways, and so of course I can’t buy it, but the salesman has the most irresistible eyes you ever saw in your life, and so I am wearing my new blue veil, and I look a dream in it. Now you scoot up to the Cote, will you, and have supper ready for us at six—Nolan and me. If Nolan were not along I might bring the blue-eyed Doric man, but he is so overbearing about those things—Nolan, I mean. Get a nice juicy steak, he needs nourishment. I think if I could feed him constantly for a month and save him from the restaurants he might develop enough animal magnetism to—anyhow, he needs the steak, so get a good one at Hardy’s and charge it to me. And will you go by the cleaners, and get my motor gloves—they said it would only be a quarter for the cleaning, so don’t pay them a cent more. Will you? That’s a nice girl.”

At six o’clock, wearily, happily, still discoursing earnestly of magnetos and batteries, Eveley and Nolan climbed the rickety rustic steps, brightening visibly as the odor of broiling steak and frying potatoes was wafted out to them. Nolan went in first, carefully stepping out of the way before he reached a hand to assist Eveley, for he knew that she would fall headlong among the cushions she kept conveniently placed for that purpose. “It is easy enough getting in, if you take your time,” she always said defensively to criticizing friends. “But I am usually in a hurry myself, so I keep the cushions handy.”

On this evening, being tired, she remained on the floor where she had comfortably landed, and lazily removed her hat and veil, tossing them lightly into a distant corner.

“If it wasn’t for the carburetor rubbing on the spark plugs,” she said plaintively, “I’d get the Doric in spite of everything. Did you ever see such blue eyes in your life, Nolan?”

“The Mason is a better car in every way,” he said flatly. “Strongly built, low hung, smart-looking, and the engine perfect.”

Eveley frowned. “Isn’t that like a man? The Mason! I wish you could have seen him, Kitty. Fifty years old if he was a day, and bald, and two double chins. And talked through his nose. And what do you suppose he talked about? His wife—and how she loves the Mason. What do I care what his wife thinks about the Mason? I wouldn’t have the Mason if he offered me one. I’ll bet it is so easy riding that it fairly sprouts double chins—on the drivers.”

“You are buying a car, Eveley—not a driver,” Nolan explained.

“But the Doric is rather light in weight, and very high in price. How I wish you could have heard him tell about it, Kitty. When he said carburetor it was just like running up a scale of music. And his fingernails were manicured as nicely as my own.”

“Is dinner ready?” Nolan interrupted furiously. “Come and eat. Great Scott! That girl would buy a bum car and a costly one, because the demonstrator has shined his nails.”

“And, Kitty, he said if we could go to-morrow evening at five-thirty he would take us to La Jolla to show us how she climbs the grades. She will go up on high.”

“When did he say that?” interrupted Nolan. “I can not go with you to-morrow night. Don’t you remember I told you we had a meeting—”

“I know, dear. I am so sorry. But Kitty will go with us, won’t you?”

“Will I?” echoed Kitty ecstatically. “Won’t I? Do you suppose they have another one, with brown eyes, to go along to—to change tires, or anything?”

“I don’t know, but we can ask. He is going to phone me at the office to-morrow to find out where to call for us. He is very respectable. He goes to the Methodist Church, and his uncle is a banker in Philadelphia.”

“Pass the potatoes, for heaven’s sake,” urged Nolan. “I feel sick.” And after a while he went on, persuasively: “There is no use to try that car out again, Eveley. It is no good. Or if you insist on it put it off until the next night, and I will go with you. We’ll all three go. Make a foursome if you like, with Kitty and the blue-eyed mutt.”

“Kitty does not like blue eyes. And besides, I am the one to be demonstrated to. And besides,” she winked at Kitty drolly, “I am sure he will be busy the rest of the week. For when I mentioned that you had an appointment to-morrow he said most particularly that to-morrow was the only free evening he had for weeks to come. And that reminds me, Nolan, that your advice about Father-in-law was no good. He is married already, and it is your fault, getting me buoyed up with hope, all to no purpose.”

Nolan was properly regretful.

“Do you think the old man likes to live with them?” he asked.

“No, of course not. He hates it. He almost shudders when I tell him how lovely it is to have a son and daughter to live with. But I suppose he thinks it is his duty to stick, just as they think it is theirs to make him stick. People are so absurd, aren’t they?”

“Yes, very,” he said soberly, his eyes intent on Eveley’s hair curling so tenderly about her ears. And he was really thinking how very absurd it was that a rising young lawyer should find it so tempting to touch that bit of curl, and to kiss it. Very absurd indeed!

“Are you thinking of something?” she asked hopefully, looking into his earnest eyes.

“Yes, indeed.” And he forced his eyes away from the distracting curls. “Yes, indeed I am.”

“What is it?” she begged, leaning toward him and slipping her fingers with childish eagerness into his hand.

“Why—just tempt him,” he stammered.

“Tempt him, Nolan. ‘Holy Mackinaw,’ as Father-in-law says, what do you mean, tempt him?”

In this predicament, Nolan was forced to concentrate. Why in the world had he said, “Tempt him?” The temptation of Eveley had nothing whatever to do with father-in-laws and the adjustment of duty. But Eveley expected him to produce a tangible and reasonable explanation.

“Why, just tempt him, Eveley. You know what temptation is, don’t you? Then do it.” This was merely playing for time, seeking for illumination. “Just—keep it always before him, you know—how nice it would be to get off alone and be independent.” Nolan was a lawyer, and having forced a foothold, he made it secure. “Tempt him with freedom, talk to him about the joys of privacy, unrestrained intercourse with his whiskered crony, the delights of unlimited liver and onions, a bed in the sitting-room, meals by the kitchen fire, and a jar of tobacco on every chair. See? Tempt him until he can’t stand it.”

Eveley looked at him appraisingly. “Nolan Inglish, you are a whole lot cleverer than I ever thought you were. That is real talent. You have found the adjustment this time. I feel it.”

Nolan, intoxicated with the warmth of her voice, the subtle flattery of word and tone, rushed on.

“Let’s find him a house, just a bit of a shack with a little garden and a mangy dog, and then razzle him with the vision of independence, and show him the house.”

Then Eveley stood up. “Will you help me do this, Nolan? You get nicer every day of your life.”

And Nolan, except for the presence of Kitty, would surely have said what he had no earthly business to say to Eveley yet—until circumstances and the Senior Member made it justifiable.

He sat glowering and grim at the Important Meeting the next evening, when he should have been gratified that his presence was desired—for Maley wasn’t there, nor Garland, nor Alverson. But in spite of the Honor, and the Significance, Nolan’s mind was wandering. He lost sight of the Truly Greats, and saw only a cloudy picture of Eveley, soft, sweet and dimply, sitting rapt by the side of the Darned Blue Eyes. And that night, at eleven o’clock, on his way to his modest room, he suddenly started. Coming demurely out of the Grant, he saw Eveley and the blue-eyed one, and laughing beside them, Kitty and some other equally reprehensible being. Nolan could hardly believe the evidence of his own eyes.

He fumed openly while he allowed them a decent interval for reaching home, and then called Eveley by telephone.

“Eveley, I thought I saw you and Kitty coming out of the Grant with some men a little while ago.”

“Oh, did you?” Eveley’s voice was vibrant with surprise.

“Yes.”

“Isn’t that funny?” she laughed a little, softly.

“Well, were you?”

“Were we what?”

“Were you there?”

“Why, yes, of course. We stopped for a sandwich. We missed our dinner. The engine broke down on the Biological Grade, and held us up for quite a while.”

“Eveley—”

“Oh, it was perfectly all right. He found out to-day that he had a friend who is a life-long friend of Kitty’s and he brought him along, and we were all nicely introduced and everything was as proper as you please.”

“Did you buy the car?” he asked witheringly.

“Oh, no, he advised me, confidentially, not to. He is going to change to the Bemis agency to-morrow, and he thinks he will find it much more satisfactory. Wasn’t it a lovely night? Did you have a nice time with the High and Mighties? Kitty is going to stay all night with me, and we are just making some hot chocolate. Won’t you come for a cup?—Oh, just Kitty and I, and it is quite early. Come along, and we’ll tell you all the bad points about the Doric. But they say the Bemis is a wonder.”