th Gilbert. I went and touched Barbara on
the shoulder.

"I'm going to take you home now."

"Yes," tears running down her face as she stumbled to her feet. "I'm a
failure. I can't do anything for Worth."

I wiped her cheeks with my own handkerchief and led her out. As I turned
from locking the door, it seemed to me I saw something move in the
shrubbery. I asked Barbara Wallace about it. She hadn't noticed
anything. Barbara Wallace hadn't noticed anything!

I began to be scared for her. Solemn in the sky above boomed out the
town clock--two strokes. Half past nine. I must get this poor child
home. We were getting in toward the noise and the light when I felt her
shiver, and stopped to say,

"Did I forget your coat? Why, where's your hat?"

"The hat's back there. I had no coat. It doesn't make any difference.
Come on. I can't--can't--I must get home."

I looked at her, saw she was about at the end of her strength, and
decided quickly,

"We'll go straight through the Square. Save time and steps."

She offered no objection, and we started in where the bands played for
the street dances, amid the raucous tooting of a thousand fish-horns,
the clangor of cow-bells, and the occasional snap of the forbidden
fire-cracker. As we turned from Broad Street into Main, I found that the
congestion was greater even than I had supposed. Here, several blocks
away from the city hall, progress was so difficult that I took Barbara
back a block to get the street that paralleled Main. This we could
navigate slowly. Here, also, everybody was masked. Confetti flew,
serpentines unreeled themselves out through the air, dusters spluttered
in faces, and among the Pierrettes, Pierrots, Columbines, sombrero-ed
cowboys, bandana-ed cow-girls, Indians, Sambos, Topsies and Poppy
Maidens, Barbara's little white linen slip and soft white sweater, and
my grey business suit, were more conspicuous than would have been the
Ahkoond of Swat and his Captive Slave. Even after the confetti had
sprinkled her black hair until it reminded me of Skeet's blossom wreath,
infinitely multiplied, I still saw the glances through the eye-holes of
masks follow us wonderingly.

Opposite the city hall, where we must cross to get to the Capehart
street, we were again almost stopped by the dense crowd. The Square was
a green-turfed dancing floor; from its stand, an orchestra jazzed out
the latest and dizziest of dances; and countless couples one-stepped on
the grass, on