termined
that he would not play again that evening. He did not like to risk the
comparison which he was sure would be made between himself and Philip.
So, when Andrew Blake came up to him and asked him to play for the next
dance, he shook his head. "I don't feel well enough," he said "I thought
I was stronger than I am."

"Do you want the boy to play all the rest of the evening?"

"Yes; he plays very fairly," said Beck, in a patronizing manner, which
implied his own superiority.

"There can be no doubt about that," said Andrew Blake, with emphasis,
for he understood Mr. Beck's meaning, and resented it as one of the
warmest admirers of the boy-musician whom he had engaged.

But Paul Beck would not for the world have revealed his real opinion of
Philip's merits.

"Yes," he continued, "he plays better than I expected. I guess you can
get along with him."

"How shall we arrange about the compensation, Mr. Beck?" asked Blake.
"We ought in that case to give him more than half."

"Oh, you can give him the whole," answered Beck carelessly. "If I felt
well enough to play, I would do my part, but I think it will be better
for me to go home and go to bed."

His decision was communicated to Philip, who felt impelled by politeness
to express his regrets to Mr. Beck.

"I am sorry you don't feel able to play, Mr. Beck," he said politely.

"Oh, it's of no consequence, as they've got some one to take my place,"
returned Beck coldly.

"I should be glad to hear you play again," continued Philip.

Paul Beck nodded slightly, but he felt too much mortified to reciprocate
Philip's friendly advances. Half an hour later he left the hall.

The dancers by no means regretted the change of arrangement. They
evidently preferred the young musician to his elderly rival. The only
one to express regret was Miss Maria Snodgrass.

"I declare it's a shame Mr. Beck has given up," she said. "I wanted you
to dance with me, Mr. Gray. I am sure if you can dance as well as you
can play, you would get along perfectly lovely. Now you've got to play,
and can't dance at all."

"It isn't leap-year, Maria," said Jedidiah Burbank, in a jealous tone.

Miss Snodgrass turned upon him angrily:

"You needn't put in your oar, Jedidiah Burbank!" she said. "I guess I
know what I'm about. If it was leap-year fifty times over, I wouldn't
offer myself to you!"

And the young lady tossed her head in a very decided manner.

"Now don't get mad, Maria!" implor