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88 "No, he didn't say that. He described you as a person who liked to make women fall in love with him, and who went about with hearts as trophies in the way that an Indian carries scalps."

"Oh! That was putting it melodramatically. Miss Valliant, perhaps you will think me a conceited cad when I say that the game of love—or flirtation—has given me some amusement in my life, but that when I found it becoming serious for myself, or for the other person, I have always stopped short, unless"

"Well, unless?"

"Unless it was a fair contest. Hearts not in it. The best fighter wins—and friends when the fight is over; like our election the other day. Isn't that your idea of a flirtation tournament?"

"Yes—perhaps—I haven't any theory about it."

"You only practise the game. Well, don't you think that two skilled players might get a good deal of fun out of such a game?"

"I don't know." Elsie was getting a little uncomfortable, and at the same time was deeply interested.

"Oh yes, you do. Because Trant implied that in this instance it is a case of Greek meeting Greek. Well, Miss Valliant, is it a challenge?"

"If you like to take it so," she answered recklessly. There was a silence.

"Yes, I do," he answered seriously. "I think it is very likely that I shall get beaten; but I accept the challenge. Will you dance this with me," he asked in a matter of fact tone. "That is a waltz, isn't it?"

She got up. At that moment Frank Hallett came up.

"Miss Valliant, you will give me this?"

Elsie hesitated. Blake said nothing, but his eyes were on her. "I am engaged to Mr. Blake," she said at last.

Frank Hallett drew back.

"The one after the next, then? I am going to dance the next with your sister."

Elsie nodded. "Yes, the one after the next."