dage came alone;
Barbee--burgeoning Alcibiades of the ballroom--came with
Self-Confidence. He strolled indifferently toward the eldest
Marguerite, from whom he passed superiorly to the central one; by
that time the third had vanished.

Isabel came with the Osborns: George soon to be taken secretly home
by Rowan; Kate (who had forced herself to accompany him despite her
bereavement), lacerated but giving no sign even to Isabel, who
relieved the situation by attaching herself momentarily to her
hostesses.

"Mamma," protested Marguerite, with indignant eyes, "do you wish
Isabel to stand here and eclipse your daughter? Station her on the
far side of grandmother, and let the men pass this way first!"

The Merediths were late. As they advanced to pay their respects,
Isabel maintained her composure. An observer, who had been told to
watch, might have noticed that when Rowan held out his hand, she
did not place hers in it; and that while she did not turn her face
away from his face, her eyes never met his eyes. She stood a
little apart from the receiving group at the moment and spoke to
him quickly and awkwardly:

"As soon as you can, will you come and walk with me through the
parlors? Please do not pay me any more attention. When the
evening is nearly over, will you find me and take me to some place
where we may not be interrupted? I will explain."

Without waiting for his assent, she left him, and returned with a
laugh to the side of Marguerite, who was shaking a finger
threateningly at her.

It was now past one o'clock: guests were already leaving.

When Rowan went for Isabel, she was sitting with Professor Hardage.
They were not talking; and her eyes had a look of strained
expectancy. As soon as she saw him, she rose and held out her hand
to Professor Hardage; then without speaking and still without
looking at him, she placed the tips of her fingers on the elbow of
his sleeve. As they walked away, she renewed her request in a low
voice: "Take me where we shall be undisturbed."

They left the rooms. It was an interval between the dances: the
verandas were crowded. They passed out into the yard. Along the
cool paths, college boys and college girls strolled by in couples,
not caring who listened to their words and with that laughter of
youth, the whole meaning of which is never realized save by those
who hear it after they have lost it. Older couples sat here and
there in quiet nooks--with talk not me