er spread outward, and Eugene frowned darkly.

"How dare you laugh?" he said. "Don't laugh at me. It's against the
rules to laugh, anyhow. Don't you remember growing girls should never
laugh? Solemnity is the first rule of beauty. Never smile. Keep
perfectly solemn. Look wise. Hence. Therefore. If. And----"

He lifted a finger solemnly, and Suzanne stared. He had fixed her eye
with his and was admiring her pretty chin and nose and lips, while she
gazed not knowing what to make of him. He was very different; very much
like a boy, and yet very much like a solemn, dark master of some kind.

"You almost frighten me," she said.

"Now, now, listen! It's all over. Come to. I'm just a silly-billy. Are
you going to dance with me this evening?"

"Why, certainly, if you want me to! Oh, that reminds me! We have cards.
Did you get one?"

"No."

"Well, they're over here, I think."

She led the way toward the reception hall, and Eugene took from the
footman who was stationed there two of the little books.

"Let's see," he said, writing, "how greedy dare I be?"

Suzanne made no reply.

"If I take the third and the sixth and the tenth would that be too
many?"

"No-o," said Suzanne doubtfully.

He wrote in hers and his and then they went back to the drawing-room
where so many were now moving. "Will you be sure and save me these?"

"Why, certainly," she replied. "To be sure, I will!"

"That's nice of you. And now here comes your mother. Remember, you
mustn't ever, ever, ever laugh. It's against the rules."

Suzanne went away, thinking. She was pleased at the gaiety of this man
who seemed so light-hearted and self-sufficient. He seemed like someone
who took her as a little girl, so different from the boys she knew who
were solemn in her presence and rather love sick. He was the kind of man
one could have lots of fun with without subjecting one's self to undue
attention and having to explain to her mother. Her mother liked him. But
she soon forgot him in the chatter of other people.

Eugene was thinking again, though, of the indefinable something in the
spirit of this girl which was attracting him so vigorously. What was it?
He had seen hundreds of girls in the last few years, all charming, but
somehow this one---- She seemed so strong, albeit so new and young.
There was a poise there--a substantial quality in her soul which could
laugh at life and think no ill of it. That was it or something of it,
for of course her be