y a
lively companion. Sometimes he was her dinner partner. Always at a dance
he danced with her more than once.

It was at one such dance that she looked up as they circled the room to
say:

"I wonder if you know, Mr. Darrin, how much I enjoy dancing with you."

"Not as much as I enjoy dancing with you," he replied smilingly. Just
then the music stopped suddenly and an officer called in a voice that
carried over the great floor of the gymnasium and over all the chatter:

"Ladies and gentlemen, one moment's attention, please!"

In an instant all was still.

"Ladies and gentlemen," continued the officer, "official permission has
been granted for taking a flashlight photograph of the scene to-night.
Will everybody please remain where he is until after the exposure has
been made?"

Dave and Marian had paused directly in front of the lens of the camera.
Maid Marian looked up and made a light, jesting remark, gazing straight
into the midshipman's eyes. Dave, smiling, bent forward to hear what she
said.

Just then came the flash, and the photographer, his work finished for
the time, gathered his paraphernalia together and left. The music
recommenced and the dancing proceeded.

Three weeks later that photograph was reproduced as a double-page
illustration in one of the prominent pictorial weeklies.

The day the magazine was on the newsstands Dan Dalzell bought a copy.
Entering their quarters with it in his hand he opened it at the
illustration and handed it to Dave.

"You and Miss Stevens show up better than any one else, Dave," remarked
Dan.

"The photograph is a good piece of work," was Dave's only comment. He
did not wish to express the annoyance he felt when he noted the
appearance of intimacy between him and Marian, whose beauty showed, even
in this reproduction. "I'd a bit rather Belle shouldn't see this paper,"
he admitted to himself.

"David, old boy, this picture would make a good exhibit in a
breach-of-promise suit."

"That's an unkind remark to make about a fine girl like Miss Stevens,"
said Dave coldly.

Dan stared, then went off, pondering.

Belle Meade, in her Gridley home, received one day a large, square, thin
package. She saw the mark of the Annapolis express office, and hastily
snatched up scissors to cut the string. Out came a huge photograph.

"A picture of an Annapolis dance! How thoughtful of Dave to send it to
me!" Then her eyes fell on two figures around which a ring had been
draw