her time and the precious dancing hours
bantering with a strange young man as to whether she should be allowed
to jump from her car unassisted or should be helped out in a ladylike
manner.

"Well, Judith, come along one way or the other," Mrs. Buck drawled.

"Perhaps Miss Buck would take one of my hands and one of yours,"
suggested Jeff to Tom.

"Perhaps the decrepit old lady will," laughed Judy, making a flying
leap between their outstretched hands without touching them and
landing lightly on the sidewalk by her mother. "Thank you both very
much," she said, and clutching her mother's arm she hurried into the
lobby of the skating rink and was lost to view in the crowd of
arriving guests.

"Here's the dressing-room, Mumsy, and we can leave our awful old
dusters in there. Weren't you furious at being seen in the horrid
things and that by the best beaux of the ball? Now, Mumsy, you just
stick to me and we'll go say howdy to the dear old men and thank them
for my dress and shoes and stockings and then you can go sit by some
of your nice church members, while I find somebody to dance with me."

"But, Judy, surely you are not going to thank the old men right out
before everybody, and surely you are not going to ask anybody to dance
with you!"

"Of course not, Mumsy! I'm going to use finesse about both things. You
just see how tactful I am. Oh! Oh! Oh! I'm so excited! Just look at
the streamers and flags and all the funny funeral wreaths, and only
listen to the music! I'm about sure there are wings on my golden
slippers. Really and truly, Mumsy, they do not touch the ground when I
walk. I'm simply floating in a kind of nebulous haze--in fact I
believe I am charged with electricity."

"Charged with foolishness, you mean!"

"Oh, but Mumsy, look, we are right behind my cousins from Buck Hill.
Let's don't go in too close to them. I'm entirely too happy to take a
snubbing from Mildred Bucknor. Doesn't Cousin Ann Peyton look
beautiful?"

"You mean the old lady in hoop skirts? She's terribly behind the
times, ain't she? But, Judy, who was the young man who was so bent on
helping you out of the car? You didn't pretend to introduce him."

"Mr. Harbison. I have not met him myself yet. I believe he is Mildred
Bucknor's special property."

The ten old men of the receiving line were drawn up in battle array,
in all the glory of their best clothes. Pete Barnes was gorgeous in
checked trousers and Prince Albert coat, with his