"Mr. Harvey."
"O—yes—so are the artists." Rose began to wonder if Isabel were not a matchmaker as well as a promoter of genius.
Isabel had a suspicion of Rose's thought and she laughingly said:
"Don't think I'm so terrible! I do like to bring the right people together. I see so many people wrongly mated, but I don't mean—I only want you to know nice people. You're to do your own choosing," she said with sudden gravity. "No one can choose for you. There are some things I want to talk about when I can venture it."
Mason and Sanborn were the last to go and when Isabel returned from the door, where she had speeded the last guest, she dropped into a chair and sighed.
"It's splendid good fun, but it does tire me so! Talk to me now while I rest."
"Sanborn, talk!" Mason commanded.
Sanborn drew a chair near Isabel and put his arm about her. She leaned her head on his shoulder.
Mason rose in mock confusion.
"I beg your pardon! I should have gone before."