on "puffed out" with the vigorous dance. She was with Jack.

"Let's sit it out," she suggested. "I seem to be all out of breath."

"Certainly," agreed Jack. "But couldn't I get some for you, or send
you some?"

"Some what?"

"Breath, wasn't that what you wanted? Here is a splendid place for a
breathing spell."

Bess laughed and sat down with her partner.

"There are all sorts of ways to dance," she remarked as the
"red-headed" girl, who had eyes for Walter, stepped on her toes in
passing.

"Those girls from the Breakwater seem to have spite against us,"
remarked Jack. "That is the second time they have stepped on our toes."

"And she is no featherweight," answered Bess, frowning.

"Strange thing that good clothes cannot cover bad manners," went on
Jack, who was plainly annoyed. "Let us take the other bench. She
can't possibly reach us in the alcove."

Cora was just gliding by.

"Lazy," she called lightly. "You are missing the best dance."

"I'm tired," replied Bess. "Besides we want to watch you."

At this Ed, who was Cora's partner, gave a wonderful swirl to show just
how beautifully he and Cora could do the "Yale Rush."

"Cora is _such_ a good dancer," Bess whispered to Jack, "but then Cora
is good at most everything." There was no sarcasm in her tone.

"Oh yes, for a little sister she is all right," agreed the young man.
"She might be worse."

"Oh," exclaimed Bess suddenly. "I saw such a face at that window!"

"Plenty of faces around here to-night," observed Jack lightly.

"But that--oh! let us go away from here. I am nervous!"

"Certainly," and Jack took her arm. "Now if that were Belle," he
proceeded calmly, and then paused.

Bess was actually trembling when they crossed to the stairway, but she
soon recovered her composure.

She said nothing more about the face she had seen peering through the
window and tried to forget it, as the dance went on.

After the "Paul Jones," a feature of the Tip-Top affairs, had been
danced, every one wanted to cool off or down, according to the
temperature desired. Cora was with Ed. They had drifted out on a side
porch. Without any preamble one of the waiters touched Ed on the arm
and told him there was a message for him waiting in the office.

"How do you know it's for me?" asked Ed, astonished.

"You are with the motor girls, aren't you?" replied the man, as if that
were an explanation.

"I'll take you back to the others," said Ed to Co