perfect figure, and the toe of a dainty shoe held me in an aphasic
spell. But the laughing eyes brought me out of it, and I made one of the
most brilliant conversational efforts of my career.

"Do you play golf, Miss Harding?" I asked. Having thus broken the ice I
experienced a vast sense of relief.

"I won a gold cup in a competition in Paris, didn't I, papa?"

"Sure thing," responded her father, "I ought to know; it cost me fifteen
dollars to pay duty on that ornament."

"And I once made the course in ninety-one," continued Miss Harding.

"I don't know anything about that," said Harding. "Is ninety-one
supposed to be any good?"

"It is a splendid record for a lady for eighteen holes!" I exclaimed,
"and it is not a bad score for a man."

"But this was only a nine-hole course," explained Miss Harding, "and
there were many of the ladies who did not do anywhere near as well as
that. I have played considerably since then, and am confident that I can
do much better."

"You'll have to excuse us, Kid," interrupted her father, patting her on
the arm with his huge hand. "I have important business in the club house
with these gentlemen, and it is a matter which takes precedence over
everything else. You can tell Smith about your golf triumphs some other
time."