his self-possession, his entire absence of anxiety;
or any expectation of rebuff or snub, might be the ease of unimpeachable
social acceptance, or it might be merely adventurous effrontery; only
something ingenuous and good in the young fellow's handsome face forbade
this conclusion. That his face was so handsome was another of the
complications. She recalled, in the dreamlike swiftness with which all
these things passed through her mind, what her friends had said to Alice
about her being sure to meet her fate on Class Day, and she looked at
her again to see if she had met it.

"Well, mamma?" said the girl, smiling at her mother's look.

Mrs. Pasmer thought she must have been keeping young Mavering waiting
a long time for his answer. "Why, of course, Alice. But I really don't
know what to do about the Saintsburys." This was not in the least true,
but it instantly seemed so to Mrs. Pasmer, as a plausible excuse will
when we make it.

"Why, I'll tell you what, Mrs. Pasmer," said young Mavering, with a
cordial unsuspicion that both won and reassured her, "we'll be sure to
find them at some of the spreads. Let me be of that much use, anyway;
you must."

"We really oughtn't to let you," said Mrs. Pasmer, making a last effort
to cling to her reluctance, but feeling it fail, with a sensation that
was not disagreeable. She could not help being pleased with the pleasure
that she saw in her daughter's face.

Young Mavering's was radiant. "I'll be back in just half a minute," he
said, and he took a gay leave of them in running to speak to another
student at the opposite end of the hall.

III.

"You must allow me to get you something to eat first, Mrs. Pasmer," said
the elder Mavering.

"Oh no, thank you," Mrs. Pasmer began. But she changed her mind and
said, "Or, yes; I will, Mr. Mavering: a very little salad, please." She
had really forgotten her hunger, as a woman will in the presence of any
social interest; but she suddenly thought his going would give her
a chance for two words with her daughter, and so she sent him. As
he creaked heavily across the smooth floor of the nave; "Alice," she
whispered, "I don't know exactly what I've done: Who introduced this
young Mr. Mavering to you?"

"Mr. Munt."

"Mr. Munt!"

"Yes; he came for me; he said you sent him. He introduced Mr. Mavering,
and he was very polite. Mr. Mavering said we ought to go up into the
gallery and see how it looked; and Mr. Munt said he'd been