t I believe Mr. Stoddard has done more for me than any one else.
He not only lends me books, but he takes time to explain things to me."

Conroy smiled covertly at the simplicity of this young beauty. He
debated in his mind whether indeed it was not an affected simplicity. Of
course Gray was devoting himself to her and lending her books; of course
he would be glad to assume the position of mentor to a girl who bade
fair to be such a pronounced social success, and who was herself
so charming.

"How long have you been in Cottonville, Miss Consadine?" he asked. "Do
tell me who you are visiting--or are you visiting here?"

"Oh, no," Johnnie corrected him. "I believe you haven't understood from
the first that I'm one of the mill girls. I board at--well, everybody
calls it Pap Himes's boarding-house."

There was a moment's silence; but Conroy managed not to look quite as
deeply surprised as he felt.

"I--of course I knew it," he began at length, after having sorted and
discarded half a dozen explanations. "There--why, there's our dance!"
And he stood up in relief, as the fiddlers began on an old-fashioned
quadrille.

Johnnie responded with alacrity, not aware of having either risen or
fallen in her companion's estimation. She danced through the set with
smiling enjoyment, prompting her partner, who knew only modern dances.
On his part Conroy studied her covertly, trying to adjust his slow mind
to this astonishing new state of things, and to decide what a man's
proper attitude might be toward such a girl. In the end he found himself
with no conclusion.

"They say they're going to try a plain waltz," he began as he led her
back to a seat. He hesitated, glanced about him, and finally placed
himself uneasily in the chair beside her. Good Lord! The situation was
impossible. What should he say if anybody--Gray Stoddard, for
instance--chaffed him about being smitten in this quarter?

"A waltz?" echoed Johnnie helpfully when he did not go on. "I believe I
could dance that--I tried it once."

"Then you'll dance it with me?" Conroy found himself saying, baldly,
awkwardly, but unable, for the life of him, to keep the eagerness out of
his voice.

Upon the instant the music struck up. The two rose and made ready for
the dance; Conroy placing Johnnie in waltzing position, and instructing
her solicitously.

Gray Stoddard looking on, was amazed at the naif simple jealousy that
swept over him at the sight. She had danced with Co