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She said that she was, rather indifferently, her gaze still following Willy, who was accepting Dickson’s congratulations less awkwardly than was his wont.

“I guess Major Brooke has told you about me, Jabez Rivers–“

But ere he could finish the name, she had held out her hand with a kindling face, crying, “Oh, indeed, yes. I’m ever so glad to meet you, Mr. Rivers.”

After this it was only natural to present Willy; but it was a bit of a surprise to have Willy, when presented, say, “This is my mascot, sir. I lost the game and she made me win it.”

Willy was astonished at his own fluency; but then he had thought Lady Jean a very young girl, not quite the “kid” that he had styled her, but still hardly a young lady. Then, anyhow, she was different. Oh, very different!

His friend was eying him critically, with queer little grunts, according to his fashion. “You’re not fit to walk,” he grumbled. “Why will young folks wear shoes that don’t fit! Say, you take Lady Jean home while I go over to the club-house with the major. And keep the car if you don’t find me. I’ll go back with Standish. And–I don’t know but you better take her ’round the head of the island and show her that motor mowing-machine–lawn-mower, you know; I want her to see it.”

He grinned as the young people obeyed him with grateful docility, speeding away in his electric runabout; and bestowed a look of orphic sagacity upon the officer in white undress uniform who had joined him. The officer was younger than Rivers, although not young.

“That is one of the very finest little ladies in the world,” he remarked.

To which Rivers returned dryly, “So you’ve told me. And that’s one of the finest, decentest, cleanest fellows in the world with her.”

“As you’ve told me.”

Rivers grunted. “Go over that lingo you told me about the girl again–or I’ll repeat to see if I’ve got it straight. She’s the fifth daughter of the Earl of Paisley, Scotch earl, and poor as even a Scotch earl can be. He has no sons. Distant cousin heir to title. Countess dead. Oldest daughter married to Baron Fairley; second, widow of a bishop; third, wife of army officer. Bishopess manages family. She has brought Lady Moira and the earl over here to give American millionaires a chance with Lady Moira, who is the family beauty; and little Jean, who is good as gold, and has sense, but isn’t showy, was just thrown in because an old-maid aunt offered to pay her expenses. Your wife, who knew them in Scotland, asked her to come here while the Bishopess, in New York, picks out the most eligible of the millionaire admirers. So?”

“Yes. Well?”

“Come on over to the club-house; and while we rest a bit, you telephone over to Mrs. Brooke, who only needs a tip to go straight, to make Willy Butler stay to dinner–“

“Oh, I say–” began the major.

“No, you don’t say anything. You don’t ask questions. You have confidence in your Uncle Jabez and do what he asks. Not? “

“I will,” said the major, and he went away smiling.

* * * * *

How astonishing to be taking a girl about alone and not be in torments of embarrassment! But this girl was so nice and simple and boyish; not the least like those snippy Boston buds! And she knew golf to the ground; it seemed the most natural thing in the world to ask her if she was going to watch Cleaves play to-morrow.

“I thought I’d follow you,” she said quietly. “Do you want to–fire–isn’t that what you call it?–your mascot?”

“Will you? Will you really?” he stammered in his pleasure. “I had a sneaking hope, but I didn’t d-dare–I feel if you d-do, I’ll beat my man; they say he is easy, and then I’ll be Cleaves’ runner-up and get a cup.”