is hour, that she gave
him credit for a little of her own excitement, innocently fancying that
he, also, might feel the need of a companion with whom to talk over the
brilliant passages of the night. And a moment ensued when she debated
taking his hand. She was too soon glad that her intuition forbade the
demonstration.

"It was all so beautiful, papa," she said, timidly. "I have no way to
tell you how I thank you."

"You may do that," he replied, evenly, with no unkindness, with no
kindness, either, in the level of his tone, "by never dancing again more
than twice with one man in one evening."

"I think I should much prefer not, myself," she returned, lifting her
head to face him gravely. "I believe if I cared to dance more than once
with one, I should like to dance all of them with him."

Mr. Carewe frowned. "I trust that you discovered none last night whom
you wished to honor with your entire programme?"

"No," she laughed, "not last night."

Her father tossed away his cigar abruptly "Is it too much to hope," he
inquired, "that when you discover a gentleman with whom you desire to
waltz all night, you will omit to mention the fact to him?"

There was a brief flash of her eye as she recalled her impulse to
take his hand, but she immediately looked at him with such complete
seriousness that he feared his irony had been thrown away.

"I'll remember not to mention it," she answered. "I'll tell him you told
me not too."

"I think you may retire now," said Mr. Carewe, sharply.

She rose from the steps, went to the door, then turned at the threshold.
"Were all your friends here, papa?"

"Do you think that every ninny who gabbled in my house last night was my
friend?" he said, angrily. "There was one friend of mine, Mrs. Tanberry,
who wasn't here, because she is out of town; but I do not imagine that
you are inquiring about women. You mean: Was every unmarried male
idiot who could afford a swallow-tailed coat and a clean pair of gloves
cavorting about the place? Yes, miss, they were all here except two, and
one of those is a fool, the other a knave."

"Can't I know the fool?" she asked, eagerly.

"I rejoice to find them so rare in your experience!" he retorted. "This
one is out of town, though I have no doubt you will see him sufficiently
often when he returns. His name is Crailey Gray, and he is to marry
Fanchon Bareaud--if he remembers!"

"And the knave?"

"Is one!" Carewe shut his teeth with a venomous