"Didn't you see," explained Richard somewhat irritably, "I had it all fixed to bring those two together?"
"How dull of me!"
"It's not too late. All you have to do is back out and send her."
"And have her exhibit herself before him at her worst. And get him sick of the very sight of her." Richard began to look foolish. Courtney went on in the same tone of light mockery: "If you want a girl to marry a man, or a man a girl, you mustn't let them see too much of each other. If possible, make it hard for them to get at each other." The emerald eyes were mockingly mirthful now. "No such love-inducer in the world as holding two people apart. And when two can see each other freely—to their heart's content—and satiation—why—" She finished with a shrug, her eyes looking straight into his.
"All right. You women know each other best," said he, uncomfortable, without being able to locate the cause.
"Helen will stay at home, like the homebody she is," pursued Courtney. "And I'll come to help you. I've had it in mind for several days."
"You're not in earnest about that!" cried Vaughan in alarm. "Why, what'd you do there? You'd be in the way."
"More than Helen?"
"Frankly—yes," said Richard bluntly. "As I said before, serious things interest her. You know, I dislike that sort of thing in a woman—am glad to see that you've gotten entirely over it, as I knew you would. But I could have put up with it—for a while—to help Helen to a good husband and Basil to a fine wife. It wouldn't have taken long—at least, I thought not. I admit I was probably wrong, and you right."
"Well—now that I've said I'd come, I'll come," said Courtney. "Helen'll take most of the detail here off my hands."