y peace."

"Why, you 're positively bearish!"

"Am I?"

"But then, you know, I might consider your words--well, worth
following."

"I 'll wait until I can find courage to take the risk."

"Is it so awfully important as all that?"

"You may judge when I tell you."

The dance had ended and as he released her she reached out and tapped
him on the arm.

"You do dance divinely. And now you had better play detective. Mother
has seen us."

That was quite true. Armitage, of course, had not been recognized as
Miss Wellington's chauffeur by the people in the room, but Mrs.
Wellington had early detected them. She said nothing until the dance
ended. Then she looked at her husband.

"Ronald," she said, "is Anne too old to be spanked, do you think?"

"Why, rather, I should say. Why?" laughed Wellington.

"Oh, no matter. Only I fancy I would relinquish my hopes for eternity
if I could!"

CHAPTER XXIV

THE BALL ENDS

Jack's mood would have defied analysis as he made his way through the
crowded hall to the rear veranda. He peered into the smoking-room in
passing and found several self-constituted Lords of Misrule holding
full sway. Two young scions of great New York families were fencing
with billiard cues, punctuating each other's coats with blue chalk dots
and dashes, while a swaying ring cheered them on. One youth emerged
from the room with steps obviously unsteady and claimed one of a pair
of girls on their way to the ballroom, as his partner for the dance.
She rapped him playfully with her fan.

"You don't really want a partner, Teddy," she said. "You want a
hitching post. You're spifflicated."

The two moved laughingly away, leaving the young man marvelling heavily
at the discernment of the girl who had cleverly discovered that which
he fancied he had carefully concealed. As Armitage watched him with
amused interest, he sighed deeply and made his way back to the
smoking-room.

Jack went up the rear stairs to the second floor and out on a little
balcony. He had viewed Miss Wellington's attitude toward him from
every angle and every time the result had been the same--the conviction
that her interest in him was something more than friendly. He
attempted no diagnosis of his own feelings. That was not necessary;
they were too patent. A great wave of tenderness thrilled him. There
was wonder, too. That wonder which fills a man when he begins to
realize that a girl whom he has regarded a