by the name of Beverley Byrd bore Miss Avery away for
the figure which was just then forming, and the little college hung in
the air for the nonce. Mr. West was so fortunate as to secure the hand
of Miss Weyland for the figure, he having taken the precaution to ask
that privilege when he greeted her some minutes since. Couple behind
couple they formed, the length of the great room, and swung away on a
brilliant march.

"It's going to be a delicious German--can't you tell by the _feel_?"
began Sharlee, doing the march with a _deux-temps_ step. "I'm so glad to
see you, for it seems ages since we met, though, you know, it was only
last week. Is not that a nice speech for greeting? Only I must tell you
that I've said it to four other men already, and the evening is yet
young."

"Is there nothing in all the world that you can say, quite new and
special, for me?"

"Oh, yes! For one thing your partner to-night is altogether the
loveliest thing I ever saw. And for another--"

"I am listening."

"For another, _her_ partner to-night is quite the nicest man in all this
big, big room."

"And how many men have you said that to to-night, here in the youth of
the evening?"

But the figure had reached that point where the paths of partners must
diverge for a space, and at this juncture Sharlee whirled away from him.
Around and up the room swept the long file of low-cut gowns and pretty
faces, and step for step across the floor moved a similar line of
swallow-tail and masculinity. At the head of the room the two lines
curved together again, round meeting round, and here, in good time, the
lovely billow bore on Sharlee, who slipped her little left hand into
West's expectant right with the sweetest air in the world.

"Nobody but you, Charles Gardiner West," said she.

The whistle blew; the music changed; and off they went upon the dreamy
valse.

There are dancers in this world, and other dancers; but Sharlee was the
sort that old ladies stop and watch. Of her infinite poetry of motion it
is only necessary to say that she could make even "the Boston" look
graceful; as witness her now. In that large room, detectives could have
found men who thought Sharlee decidedly prettier than Miss Avery. Her
look was not languorous; her voice was not provocative; her eyes were
not narrow and tip-tilted; they did not look dangerous in the least,
unless you so regard all extreme pleasure derived from looking at
anything in the nature of eyes