“You are probably mistaken.  One girl has proved how she regarded the vista, and I don’t believe you had any better opinion of me than of the others.  Come now, own up.  Be honest.  Didn’t you regard me as one of the girls ‘in our set’ as you phrase it, that would jump at the chance?”

“Oh, nonsense, Miss Marian.  The idea—­”

She checked him by a gesture.  “I wish downright sincerity, and I shall detect the least false note in your words.”

Strahan looked into her resolute, earnest eyes a moment, and then revealed a new trait.  He discarded the slight affectation that characterized his manner, stood erect, and returned her gaze steadily.  “You ask for downright sincerity?” he said.

“Yes; I will take nothing less.”

“You have no right to ask it unless you will be equally sincere with me.”

“Oh, indeed; you are in a mood for bargains, as well as Mr. Lanniere.”

“Not at all.  You have stepped out of the role of the mere society girl.  In that guise I shall be all deference and compliments.  On the basis of downright sincerity I have my rights, and you have no right to compel me to give an honest opinion so personal in its nature without giving one in return.”

“I agree,” she said, after a moment’s thought.

“Well, then, while I was by no means sure, I thought it was possible, even probable, that you would accept a man like Lanniere.  I have known society girls to do such things, haven’t you?”

“And I tell you, Mr. Strahan, that you misjudge a great many society girls.”

“Oh, you must tell me a great deal more than that.  Have I not just discovered that I misjudged one?  Now pitch into Arthur Strahan.”

“I am inclined to think that I have misjudged you, also; but I will keep my compact, and give you the impression you made, and you won’t like it.”

“I don’t expect to; but I shall expect downright sincerity.”

“Very well.  I’ll test you.  You are not simple and manly, even in your dress and manner; you are an anomaly in the country; you are inclined to gossip; and it’s my belief that a young man should do more in life than amuse himself.”

Strahan flushed, but burst out laughing as he exclaimed, “My photograph, by Jupiter!”

“Photographs give mere surface.  Come, what’s beneath it?”

“In one respect, at least, I think I am on a par with yourself.  I have enough honest good-nature to listen to the truth with thanks.”

“Is that all?”

“Come, Miss Marian, what is the use of words when I have had such an example of deeds?  I have caught you, red-handed, in the act of giving a millionnaire his conge.  In the face of this stern fact do you suppose I am going to try to fish up some germs of manhood for your inspection?  As you have suggested, I must do something, or I’m out of the race with you.  I honestly believe, though, I am not such a fool as I have seemed.  I shall always be something of a rattle-brain, I suppose, and if I were dying I could not help seeing the comical side of things.”  He hesitated a moment, and then asked, abruptly, “Miss Marian, have you read to-day’s paper?”