“What is he like?” Merrington asked.
“Oh, he is tall, like you, and square-shouldered and very good-looking, only his hair isn’t like yours.”
“Then I’m to look for some one like me with blond hair, is that it?”
“Of course not,” she exclaimed, indignantly. “He isn’t at all like you, but you offered to help, and you are tall.”
Merrington, curiously happy, he could not just know why, looked around over the sea of people.
“There is some one I know with yellow hair,” he said, presently.
“I wouldn’t acknowledge it if I did,” Jacqueline replied, with stiff propriety, but for once Merrington was unmindful of her words, and was waving his hand with facile grace above his head.
“There’s Dick, now!” the girl cried, as a tall, blond young fellow bore down upon them; then she stood still in amazement as the two men seized hands. “You two know each other!” she exclaimed.
“Know each other! I should say we did. Didn’t we ‘do’ Europe together for a year, and then dine with each other the night we got home? How’s that for a test, Jack?”
“Splendid,” Jacqueline responded, but she was not feeling very comfortable.