ting in the corner over there," he said. "We'd better go
through the formalaty of an introduction. He's positively twittering
with excitement."

"Carter" I said desparately. "I want to tell you somthing first. I've
got myself in an awful mess. I----"

"Sure you have," he said. "That's why I'm here, to help you out. Now
you be calm, and there's no reason why you two can't have the evening of
your young lives. I wish _I_ could fall in Love. It must be bully."

"Carter----!"

"Got his note, didn't you?"

"Yes, I----"

"Here we are," said Carter. "Miss Archibald, I would like to present Mr.
Grosvenor."

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. "C