"I sent my chauffeur," she said, "to bring my cousin, Walter Long.
There is a man in this house who has treated me with insult and
abuse. I have complained to my aunt, and she laughs at me. Armand
says you are brave. In these prosaic days men who are both brave and
chivalrous are few. May I count upon your assistance?"

John Hopkins thrust the remains of his cigar into his coat pocket.
He looked upon this winning creature and felt his first thrill of
romance. It was a knightly love, and contained no disloyalty to the
flat with the flea-bitten terrier and the lady of his choice. He had
married her after a picnic of the Lady Label Stickers' Union, Lodge
No. 2, on a dare and a bet of new hats and chowder all around with
his friend, Billy McManus. This angel who was begging him to come
to her rescue was something too heavenly for chowder, and as for
hats--golden, jewelled crowns for her!

"Say," said John Hopkins, "just show me the guy that you've got the
grouch at. I've neglected my talents as a scrapper heretofore, but
this is my busy night."

"He is in there," said the lady, pointing to a closed door. "Come.
Are you sure that you do not falter or fear?"

"Me?" said John Hopkins. "Just give me one of those roses in the
bunch you are wearing, will you?"

The lady gave him a red, red rose. John Hopkins kissed it, stuffed it
into his vest pocket, opened the door and walked into the room. It
was a handsome library, softly but brightly lighted. A young man was