N't really believe that he's come to--" "No, Eddie, I don't. I think he's come like young Lochinvar--to dance a little late at the wedding. To try to persuade me to accept that lazy, good-looking brother of his as a son-in-law. He'll have quite a job over that." Then, as the door opened, Mr. Cord's eyes concentrated on it and his manner became a shade sharper. "Ah, Mr. Moreton, good morning. Mr. Verriman--Mr. Moreton." Ben was a good-looking young man, but it was his expression--at once illuminated and determined--that made him unusual. And the effect of his night and morning had been to intensify this, so that now, as he stood a moment in the doorway, he was a very attractive and compelling figure. "I came to see my brother, Mr. Cord," he said, simply, "but I hear he's not here any more. If I could speak to you alone for a few minutes--" He glanced at Eddie, whom he instantly recognized as the man who had not known how to talk to the woman in the world best worth talking to.