ive me for last night."

"There's nothing to forgive," she said. "Don't you know that though
the man always takes the blame, it's always the girl's fault. A man
can't get himself into trouble by just sitting still and looking
pensive, but a girl can. From the moment Evelyn sat on that bench
under the cedar she had only one thought. It was to see if she could
make you kiss her."

"No, no, Mrs. Fulton," I exclaimed. "It wasn't a bit like that.
Honestly it wasn't."

"In that case," said Mrs. Fulton, and her rosy face was at its very
gayest, "Evelyn is a liar."

"She told you that she tried to make me?"

"Why, what else was there for her to be ashamed about?"

"But you said she was also angry."

"I suppose," said Lucy mischievously, "she was angry because I came out
on the porch."

IX

In the days of the waltz and the twostep, Aiken did not dance, but
immediately upon the introduction of the Turkey Trot and the Grizzly
Bear, she made honorable amends. Wilcox built an oval ballroom with a
platform for musicians, the big room at the Golf Club was found to have
a capital floor, and the grip of bridge whist upon society was rudely
loosened.

Whatever may be said in derogation of the modern dances, they have
rejuvenated the old and knocked a lot of nonsense out of the young. To
my eye there is nothing more charming than a well-danced maxixe. To
dance well a man must be an athlete and a musician; to be either is
surely a worthy ambition. To dance well a girl must at the very least
have grace and charm.

So far as I am concerned, Lucy Fulton's dance was a great success, from
the arrival of the first guest. I was the first guest.

We had a whole dance to ourselves while Evelyn was busy with the
telephone and before the second guest arrived. In all her life Lucy
had never looked more animated or more lovely. The musicians caught
her enthusiasm and the high spirit which flowed from her like an
electric current, and at once these things appeared in their music.

"I've only one sorrow," I said, "that I can't dance with you and watch
you dance at the same time."

"But if you had to choose one or the other?"

"I shall choose often," I said, "but I'm afraid others will begin
getting chosen. If I had my way there would be no other man but me and
no other girl but you, and we'd dance till breakfast time."

"Evelyn," said Lucy, her eyes full of mischief, "could chaperon us from
a bench. She could sen