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“I have never met him,” he said. “I have seen him a couple of times.” And Montague went on to tell her of the occasion in the Millonaires' Club, when he had seen the Croesus of Wall Street surrounded by an attending throng of “little millionaires.”

“I hope I shan't meet him,” said Lucy. “I know I should be frightened to death.”

“They say he can be charming when he wants to,” replied Montague. “The ladies are fond of him.”

On Saturday afternoon, when Montague went down to Harvey's Long Island home, his brother met him at the ferry.

“Allan,” he began, immediately, “did you know that Lucy had come down here with Stanley Ryder?”

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“Heavens, no!” exclaimed Montague. “Is Ryder down here?”

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“He got Harvey to invite him,” Oliver replied. “And I know it was for no reason in the world but to be with Lucy. He took her out in his automobile.”

Montague was dumfounded.

“She never hinted it to me,” he said.

“By God!” exclaimed Oliver, “I wonder if that fellow is going after Lucy!”

Montague stood for some time, lost in sombre thought. “I don't think it will do him much good,” he said. “Lucy knows too much.”

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“Lucy has never met a man like Stanley Ryder!” declared the other. “He has spent all his life hunting women, and she is no match for him at all.”

“What do you know about him?” asked Montague.

“What don't I know about him!” exclaimed the other. “He was in love with Betty Wyman once.”