o pay.

Bradish was pretty familiar with the phases and the oddities of the
dancing craze, but this _contretemps_ rather staggered him.

They had asked no questions of each other during those dances. They had
been perfectly satisfied with the joy of the moment. She had looked at
him in a way and with a softness in her eyes which told him that she
found him pleasing in her sight. She had been enthusiastic, with that
same exuberance he had just witnessed, over his grace in the dance. They
had promised to meet again at the ball-room where social conventions did
not prevent healthy young folks from enjoying themselves.

"Good heavens!" she whispered to him, as she preceded him through the
door. "You work in my father's office?"

"You are surprised--a little shocked--and I don't blame you," he
returned, humbly. "As for me, I am simply astounded. But I am not a
gossip."

She stole a look at his pale, impassive face, and some of her father's
instinct in judging men seemed to reassure her.

"One must play a bit," she sighed. "And it's so stupid most of the time,
among folks whom one knows very well. There are no more surprises."

As he shut the door softly behind them Bradish heard Marston, once more
immersed in his affairs of business, directing over the telephone that
one Fletcher Fogg be located and sent to him.

"I apologize," said Bradish, in the corridor. They were waiting for the
elevator.

"For what?" She lifted her eyebrows, and there was no hint of annoyance
in her dark eyes.

"For--well--seeing how the matter stands, it almost seems as if I had
presumed--was masquerading. I am only a clerk, and--"

"But you are a clerk in Julius Marston's offices," she said, with pride,
"and that means that you are to be trusted. I require no apology from
you, Mr.--er--"

"My name is Ralph Bradish."

"I dodged away from dullness last evening; I was hoping to have a bit
of a frolic. And I found a young gentleman who asked no impertinent
questions, who was very gracious, and who was a delight in the dance. It
was all very innocent--rather imprudent--but altogether lovely. There!"

"I thank you."

"And--well, after Nan Burgess's house-party, I--"

She glanced up at him, provocation in her eyes.

"But I don't dare to hope, do I, that you will condescend to come again
and dance with me?"

"Julius Marston has taught his daughter to keep her promise, sir. If I
remember, I promised."

He did not reply, for the elevat