From where I stood, though, the guy who was pushin' overboard the
biggest chunk of worry was this I-wilt boy, Mr. Nicholas Talbot. He'd
got her at last! But, z-z-z-zingo! it had been some lively gettin'.
Not that I was all through the campaign with him; but I'd had glimpses
here and there.

You see, Robbie's almost one of the fam'ly; for Mr. Robert's an old
friend of the Ballards, and was bottle holder or something at the
christenin'. As a matter of fact, she was named Roberta after him.
Then he'd watched her grow up, and always remembered her birthdays, and
kept her latest picture on his desk. So why shouldn't he figure more
or less when so many others was tryin' to straighten out her love
affairs? They was some tangled there for awhile too.

Robbie's one of the kind, you know, that would have Cupid cross-eyed in
one season. A queen? Well, take it from me! Say, the way her cheeks
was tinted up natural would have a gold medal rose lookin' like it come
off a twenty-nine-cent roll of wall paper. Then them pansy-colored
eyes! Yes, Miss Roberta Ballard was more or less ornamental. That
wa'n't all, of course. She could say more cute things, and cut loose
with more unexpected pranks, than a roomful of Billie Burkes. As
cunnin' as a kitten, she was.

No wonder Nick Talbot fell for her the first time he was exposed!
Course, he was half engaged to that stunnin' Miss Marian Marlowe at the
time; but wa'n't Robbie waverin' between three young chaps that all
seemed to be in the runnin' before Nick showed up?

Anyway, Miss Marlowe should have known better than to lug in her steady