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?"

"I have seen her twice. She was in here the other day to look at my
prints, and," her brilliant eyes grew soft, "well, I feel sorry for
her."

"Sorry? But do you like her?"

"Haven't you always told me that I like everybody?"

He laughed. "With one exception!"

"With one particular exception!"

"But honestly, Corinna." His tone was insistent. "Do you like Patty
Vetch?"

"Honestly, my dear Stephen, I do. There is something--well, something
almost pathetic about the girl; and I think she is genuine. One day last
week she came here and made me tell her everything I could about my
prints. I don't mean really that she made me, you know. There wasn't