plain to be seen, now that I look more closely. You're not
nearly so pretty with it, either. Rubs off considerable of your usual
irresistible bloom. Beauing Arethusa Worthington for a change, I
suppose?"

The afflicted one nodded.

"Well, she's one girl that I know that you never have to bother about
showing a time to; she has it all by herself. I'll hand it to her
there. So there's no real use in your sticking around up here. Come on
down with me and we'll play a round or two of pool. It'll be much
better for you than standing up here in this draughty hall."

Mr. Bennet demurred.

"Oh, come on! I've no business clearing out, either, but we won't stay
a minute.... It'll do you good."

Just what medicinal properties a game of pool may be said to possess
was not made plain, but Mr. Bennet seemed, after a moment or two of
thought, inclined to agreement with the idea. He cast a weather eye
about for Arethusa, but as her dancing partner had changed since he
last observed her, not five whole minutes before, he felt himself
perfectly safe in leaving her to her own devices for awhile, while he
sought more congenial occupation than that of a mere spectator of the
enjoyment of others.

Arethusa saw him, as he turned away from the ball-room door and his
shapely back disappeared down the hall, and her warm heart smote her at
the sight.

"He feels just perfectly rotten, I know!"

And she.... She was dancing around gayly, enjoying herself leaving him
so wretched and alone! She visioned him stretched out somewhere in
another room on a lumpy hotel sofa, suffering!

She grew so distraught as this vision broadened in its scope as to the
Misery of the Wonderful Mr. Bennet, that she missed step with Billy
Watts, with whom she was dancing, entirely. She then stepped squarely
on his foot, and missed the time again. And it was not only once or
twice she did this most unpardonable thing, but three distinct times in
quick succession.

Billy stopped short in the middle of the floor, disgusted.

"See here, Arethusa, what's the matter with you? I've asked you the
same question about sixty times, and you've just been climbing all over
me!"

Billy had somewhat adopted Timothy's tone with Arethusa. They were the
oldest and best of friends by now, and he gave himself all the
privileges of such a friend. Arethusa liked it ... generally.

She was most apologetic.

"I'm sorry, Billy." (She knew him quite well enough after these weeks