el the wave of
derision, and he could see the hot shame on Arthur's cheeks. Emma bent
low for her train, took Arthur's arm, and disappeared into the parlor
where the dancing had begun.

Orson felt his arm pinched, and turned to find Tudie looking at him.
"This is our dance," she said, "unless you'd rather dance with her."

"With her? With Miss Terriberry, you mean?"

"Naturally. You were staring at her so hard I thought your eyes would
roll out on the floor."

There was only one way to quell this mutiny, and that was to soothe it
away. He caught Tudie in his arms. It was strenuous work bumping about
in that little parlor, and collisions were incessant, but he wooed Tudie
as if they were afloat in interstellar spaces.

They collided oftenest with Arthur and his Emma, for the lucky youth who
held that drifting nymph seemed most unhappy in his pride. The girl was
talking amiably, but the man was grim and furtive and as careless of his
steering as a tipsy chauffeur.

Orson forgot himself enough to comment to Tudie, "Your brother doesn't
seem to be enjoying himself."

"Poor boy, he's heartbroken."

"Why?"

"He's so disappointed with Em."

"I can't see anything wrong with her."

"Evidently not; but have you heard her?"

In a sudden access of rage Orson stopped short in the middle of the
swirl, and, ignoring the battery of other dancers, demanded, "In
Heaven's name, what's the matter with the girl?"

"Nothing, I should judge from the look on your face after your close
inspection."

"Oh, for pity's sake, don't begin on me; but tell me--"

"Talk to her and find out," said Tudie, with a twang that resounded as
the music came to a stop. "Oh, Em--Miss Terriberry, this is Mr. Carver;
he's dying to meet you."

She whirled around so quickly that he almost fell into the girl's arms.
She received him with a smile of self-possession: "Chahmed, Mr. Cahveh."

Orson's Eastern ears, expecting some horror of speech, felt delight
instead. She did not say "charrmed" like an alarm-clock breaking out.
She did not trundle his name up like a wheelbarrow. She softened the "a"
and ignored the "r."

Tudie rolled the "r" on his ear-drums as with drum-sticks, and by
contrast the sound came to him as: "Misterr Carrverr comes from
Harrvarrd. He calls it Havvad."

"Oh," said Em, with further illumination, "I woah the Hahvahd colohs the
lahst time I went to a game."

Orson wanted to say something about her lips being the perfect H