He was of the kind who love or make love to every new girl they meet,
seriously enough at the time, but easily passed over if need be. Rebuffs
may have puzzled him, but they left no jagged scar. He belonged to that
class which upsets the tranquillity of inexperienced maidens by
whispering intensely, "God, it's grand!" And he means it at the moment.

Katherine Rodney was in love with him. He belonged to a fashionable New
York family of wealth, and he had been a young lion at Pasadena during
the winter just past. He owned automobiles and a yacht and--an extensive
wardrobe. These notable assets had much to do with the conquest of Mrs.
Rodney: she looked with favour upon the transitory Mr. Ulstervelt, and
believed in her heart that he had something to do with the location of
the shining sun. But of this affair more anon, as the novelists say.

Brock was presented to the Rodneys just before the party went in to
dinner. He managed his eyeglass and his drawl bravely, and got on
swimmingly with the elder Rodneys, until Constance appeared with
Katherine and Freddie Ulstervelt. It was not until then that it occurred
to Miss Fowler that Freddie, being from New York, was almost certain to
know Brock either personally or by sight. She experienced a cold chill,
the distinct approach of catastrophe. Brock had just been told that
young Ulstervelt of New York was to be of the party. His blood ran cold.
He had never seen the young man, but he knew his father well; he had
even dined at the mansion in Madison Avenue. There was every reason,
however, to suspect that Freddie knew him by sight. Even as he was
planning a mode of defence in case of recognition, the young man was
presented. Brock's drawl was something wonderful.

"I--aw--knew your family, I'm sure--aw, quite sure," he said. "You know,