The girls were as lovely as a bunch of spring blossoms, and Julia looked like the most gorgeous, pink, fragrant, drooping cabbage-rose as Peter danced with her again and again.  I was so glad, because he is as tall as she is, and she is such a good dancer that it must have been as soothing to his tired nerves as a nice wide rocking-chair with billows of blue mull cushions.  It was easy to see what she thought of him from the way she looked at him, and poor Pink took me out in the moonlight and swore at me in polite language.

“Why don’t you feed your sick poet your own self, Betty, and not let him loose to eat up my girl?” he stormed.

“Oh, Pink, how can you be so ungenerous, when you know how wonderful he is and how wonderful his play will be if you and everybody are kind and good to him while he is writing it,” I chided him.

“Well, he had better not put Julia into it without me,” he answered, somewhat mollified at my reproof.

“He won’t, I know he won’t,” I hastened to assure him.  “Especially if you are nice to him, as you promised.  You know, Pink, you are an awfully interesting man in some ways, and I know it is going to do Peter a lot of good to be friends with you; you are so—­so substantial.”

“That’s it; slap my fat!  Everybody does,” he answered, gloomily.

“It was the mules I was talking about, not you, Pink,” I answered, hurriedly, for I know how sensitive he is.

“Well, call me a mule then,” he again said, with the deepest depression.

“Now don’t be stupid, Pink, and—­”

“I am stupid, too!”

“Pink Herriford, will you please tell my friend, Peter Vandyne, about your heroism in stopping the stampede of those thousand mules you were shipping to France in time to save the lives of all of them and about ten men?  I seem to have to speak to you in words of two syllables to-night.”  I could feel my cheeks burn with temper as I spoke and Pink came immediately out of his grouch and into his own happy personality.

“Holy smoke!  Betty, but that was some stunt!  First I saw a big red mule lift his hind legs in ugly temper, and let fly right and left just as—­”

“Oh, wait Pink, let me get Peter!” I exclaimed, as I heard the dance that Pink and I had been arguing out, instead of sitting or dancing out, stop to get breath.

Pink was a wonder as he stood in the center of everybody that I had gathered around him to hear in particular what they had all been talking about in general.  We were all spellbound, for it was a really exciting and tremendous recital, and even Julia came out of her daze over Peter to listen with rapt attention, though I imagine she had heard it before.

“Immense!” exclaimed Peter, with his pale, thin face in a perfect flame of excitement just as Pink threw his own body right in front of the largest mule and turned his neck and—­

“What?” said Pink, as he glared at Peter suspiciously.