n, Thayer, that if
she could hail you with a new adjective, I should present you as a
candidate for a dish of tea, some Monday."

As usually happened with Bobby Dane's remarks, this proved the end of
any serious talk, and Beatrix laughed, as she responded,--

"Please come alone, Mr. Thayer. My cousin monopolizes all the
conversation, when he is present."

"And Miss Dane always demands a good listener. Like a conspirator, she
relies upon your silence, Thayer."

"What a restful hostess!" Thayer answered lightly. Then, turning, he
laid a kindly hand on the arm of his accompanist. "Otto, I wish you to
meet Mr. Dane. Miss Dane, may I introduce my friend, Mr. Arlt?"

It was done simply; but the boy blushed with sudden shyness before the
stately girl, whose fur collar alone had cost far more than his whole
year's expenses. Beatrix met him cordially, for she had seen him
standing ignored in his corner by the piano, and she liked the friendly
way in which the singer had included him in the trivial talk. It was not
until afterwards that she suddenly recalled the fact that she herself
and her cousin were apparently the only ones to whom Thayer had
introduced his companion. She pondered over the reason for this until,
as she slowly mounted the steps to her own door, she abruptly recurred
to the unanswered question which had been driven from her mind by the
afternoon's events.

The old butler met her in the hall.

"Mr. Lorimer has just telephoned to you, Miss Beatrix. He can't come,
to-night, he says. His horse stumbled and threw him just now, and his
ankle is sprained. It will be a few days before he can go out."

And with utter thankfulness Beatrix accepted even this brief reprieve.

CHAPTER TWO

"Cast your bread upon the waters, and it will come floating back to you
in time to be fed out to the next man."

"Bad for the next man's digestion, though!" Bobby Dane commented, as he
set down his empty cup. "You needn't offer me any of your second-hand
pabulum, Beatrix."

"You probably will be in such dire straits that I shall offer you the
first chance at it, Bobby," she retorted.

"Another cup of tea, and two pieces of lemon, please," Sally demanded.
"What is the particular appositeness of your remarks, Beatrix?"

"Mr. Arlt and Mrs. Stanley. Also the conservation of philanthropic
energy."

Sally stirred her tea with a protesting clatter of the spoon.

"Beatrix, I am glad I didn't go to college. Your mind is