Because he felt that her gaiety rippled over an undercurrent of pain, Stephen bent forward and touched her hand with an impulse of tenderness.

“You are more beautiful than you ever were in your life,” he said.  “There isn’t a woman in the world who can compare with you.”  Then he laughed merrily.  “I shall watch you two to-morrow evening, you and Rose Stribling.”

“I am sorry,” replied Corinna in a troubled voice.  “I may tell you the truth since Father says it is the last thing any one ever believes—­and the truth is that she makes me savage—­yes, I mean it—­she makes me savage.”

“I know what the Judge means when he says you are like Vetch,” returned Stephen abruptly.  Then, without waiting for her reply, he added in an impulsive tone:  “Triumph over her to-morrow night, Corinna.  Go out to fight with all your weapons and seize the trophies from Mrs. Stribling.”

“You funny boy!” exclaimed Corinna, but the sadness had left her voice and her eyes were shining.  “Why, I am twelve years older than Rose Stribling, and those twelve years are everything.”

“Those twelve years are nothing unless you imagine that you are in a novel.  It is only in books that there is a chronology of the emotions.”

“She is a fat blonde without a heart,” insisted Corinna, “and they are invulnerable.”

“Well, snatch Vetch away from her.  He deserves something better than that combination.”

“Oh, she can’t hurt him very much, even though she no longer has a husband to get in her way.  Have you ever wondered how George Stribling stood her?  It must have been a relief to find himself safely dead.”

“He stood her as one stands sultry weather probably, but with less hope of a change.  He had that slow and heavy philosophy that wears well.  I think it even dawned upon him now and then that there was something funny about it.”

“Of course he knew that she married him for his money,” said Corinna, “but that is the last thing the natural man appears to resent.”

Stephen rose and bent over her.  “Promise me that you will save Vetch,” he implored mockingly.

“Why this sudden interest in Vetch?” Corinna rose also and reached for her fur coat.  “It makes me curious to meet him.  Yes, I promise you that I will go to-morrow night attired as for a carnival in all the mystery of a velvet mask.  I may not save Vetch, but I think at least that I can eclipse Rose Stribling.  My motive may not be admirable, but it is as feminine as a string of beads.”

He kissed her hand.  “Bless your heart because you are both human and my cousin.”  For an instant he hesitated, and then as they reached the door together, he turned with his hand on the knob, and looked into her eyes.  “The Governor has a daughter.  Did you know it?” he asked.

“Why, of course I know it.  Isn’t Patty Vetch as well advertised as the newest illustrated weekly?”

“I was wondering,” again he hesitated over the words, “if you had seen her and what you think of her?”