"Come into the house," said Jean. "Stover will see to your baggage." As they entered, Mr. Berkeley Fresno saw the late arrival bend over Helen Blake, and heard him murmur: "The same unforgettable eyes of Italian blue." And Mr. Fresno decided to dislike Wally Speed, even if it required an effort. CHAPTER IV It was on the following morning that Miss Blake made bold to request her favor from J. Wallingford Speed. They had succeeded in isolating themselves upon the vine-shaded gallery at the rear of the house, and the conversation had been largely of athletics, but this, judging from the rapt expression of the girl, was a subject of surpassing interest. Speed, quick to take a cue, plunged on. "I would have made the Varsity basket-ball team myself if I hadn't been so tiny," said Helen. "I have always wanted to be tall, like Roberta." "I shouldn't care for that," said the young man. "You know she was a wonderful player?" "So I've heard." "Do you know," mused Helen, "I have never forgotten what you told me that first day we met. I think it was perfectly lovely of you." "What was that?" Now it must be admitted that J. Wallingford Speed, in his relations with the other sex, frequently found himself in a position requiring mental gymnastics of a high order; but, as a rule, his memory was good, and he seldom crossed his own trail, so to speak. In this instance he was utterly without remembrance, however, and hence was non-committal. "What you told me about your friendship for Mr. Covington. I think it is very unselfish of you." "Oh, I wouldn't say that," ventured the young man, vainly racking his brain. "Nobody could help liking Culver." "Yes; but how many men would step aside and let their best friend