Somebody bowed in front of me, and then straightened up and looked down

at me. IT WAS THE MAN OF THE PICTURE, LITTLE MUSTACHE AND ALL. My mouth

went perfectly dry.

It is all very well to talk about Romance and Love, and all that sort

of thing. But I have concluded that amorus experiences are not always

agreeable. And I have discovered something else. The moment anybody is

crazy about me I begin to hate him. It is curious, but I am like that. I

only care as long as they, or he, is far away. And the moment I touched

H's white kid glove, I knew I loathed him.

"Now go to it, you to," Carter said in cautious tone. "Don't be

conspicuous. That's all."

And he left us.

"Suppose we dance this. Shall we?" said H. And the next moment we were

gliding off. He danced very well. I will say that. But at the time I was

too much occupied with hateing him to care about dancing, or anything.

But I was compelled by my pride to see things through. We are a very

proud Familey and never show our troubles, though our hearts be torn

with anguish.

"Think," he said, when we had got away from the band, "think of our

being together like this!"

"It's not so surprizing, is it? We've got to be together if we are

dancing."

"Not that. Do you know, I never knew so long a day as this has been. The

thought of meeting you--er--again, and all that."

"You needn't rave for my benefit," I said freesingly. "You know

perfectly well that you never saw me before."

"Barbara! With your dear little Letter in my breast pocket at this

moment!"

"I didn't know men had breast pockets in their evening clothes."

"Oh well, have it your own way. I'm too happy to quarrel," he said. "How

well you dance--only, let me lead, won't you? How strange it is to think

that we have never danced together before!"

"We must have a talk," I said desparately. "Can't we go somwhere, away

from the noise?"

"That would be conspicuous, wouldn't it, under the circumstances? If we

are to overcome the Familey objection to me, we'll have to be cautious,

Barbara."

"Don't call me Barbara," I snapped. "I know perfectly well what you

think of me, and I----"

"I think you are wonderful," he said. "Words fail me when I try to tell

you what I am thinking. You've saved the Cotillion for me, haven't you?

If not, I'm going to claim it anyhow. IT IS MY RIGHT."




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