n a corner. He could scarcely believe his senses; it was Miss Abigail.
She was sitting back against the wall, watching the crowd with eyes as
sharp as needles. Sometimes her thin lips twitched, and her bright eyes
snapped with inward amusement. Keith made his way over to her. She was
so much engaged that he stood beside her a moment without her seeing
him. Then she turned and glanced at him.

"'A chiel's amang ye takin' notes,'" he said, laughing and holding out
his hand.

"'An', faith! she'll prent 'em,'" she answered, with a nod. "How are
you? I am glad to see you. I was just wishing I had somebody to enjoy
this with me, but not a man. I ought to be gone; and so ought you, young
man. I started, but I thought if I could get in a corner by myself where
there were no men I might stay a little while and look at it; for I
certainly never saw anything like this before, and I don't think I ever
shall again. I certainly do not think you ought to see it."

Keith laughed, and she continued:

"I knew things had changed since I was a girl; but I didn't know it was
as bad as this. Why, I don't think it ought to be allowed."

"What?" asked Keith.

"This." She waved her hand to include the dancing throng before them.
"They tell me all those women dancing around there are married."

"I believe many of them are."

"Why don't those young women have partners?"

"Why, some of them do. I suppose the others are not attractive enough,
or something."

"Especially _something_," said the old lady. "Where are their husbands?"

"Why, some of them are at home, and some are here."

"Where?" The old lady turned her eyes on a couple that sailed by her,
the man talking very earnestly to his companion, who was listening
breathlessly. "Is that her husband?"

"Well, no; that is not, I believe."

"No; I'll be bound it is not. You never saw a married man talking to his
wife in public in that way--unless they were talking about the last
month's bills. Why, it is perfectly brazen."

Keith laughed.

"Where is her husband?" she demanded, as Mrs. Wentworth floated by, a
vision of brocaded satin and lace and white shoulders, supported by
Ferdy Wickersham, who was talking earnestly and looking down into her
eyes languishingly.

"Oh, her husband is here."

"Well, he had better take her home to her little children. If ever I saw
a face that I distrusted it is that man's."

"Why, that is Ferdy Wickersham. He is one of the leaders of society.