aside without more ado, ducked his shock head, and, before
she had time to collect her surprised senses, had melted away in the
thinning swirls of humanity, and was gone.

"What! Deserted already?" laughed Mr. Dalton with malicious
satisfaction, as he caught the expression on her face; but, softening
instantly, he added, "Well, you're lucky! What I had expected was that
you would never be rid of him till he had talked you bl--" He checked
the word on his lips, remembering, his companion's affliction.

She laughed out merrily.

"How can one talk another blind? We should say deaf, I think. The blind
always enjoy the merry clatter of tongues. Why did he leave, Joyce?"

"I don't just understand. He didn't feel well, he said."

"Oh, you overpowered him, Miss Lavillotte! He is not used to beauty and
grandeur. I am a little afraid of it myself!" His own audacity, which
surprised himself it was so unlike him, made George Dalton color like a
girl, and he fairly shrank behind the Madame's tall figure to conceal
his rising color. But Joyce did not notice. She was so intent on what
she had just seen, as to be oblivious now. She took the dear lady's arm
with a delightful sense of security, and observed in as matter-of-fact a
way as she could assume:

"We'll have to wait, anyhow, for the people seem actually ravenous, poor
things! I drew back to let them by, and thought we would go home----"

"No, you can come," cried Larry, bustling up to them. "Everybody is
seated and I've found some extra chairs and a retired corner for you
ladies, where you can see without being seen. Dalton and I will wait on
you. Follow me."

He led them across a screened corner and seated them within one of the
eating-rooms, nearly hidden behind the well-heaped table, which had been
pushed back into an angle of the wall. As Joyce looked about her the
Pole was nearly opposite, and sat gorging the large sandwich, handed him
upon his plate, in a greedy manner that fairly horrified her. There was
something animal-like, ghoulish even, in his clutching haste; yet it was
pitiable, too.

"Mr. Dalton," she asked, "who is that man?"

He followed the guarded glance of her eye and looked a moment with a
perplexed frown.

"I really can't tell," he said at length. "Yet it seems as if I ought to
know, too. I hardly think he's one of our men, unless he has come very
lately. He isn't exactly what you'd call a beauty; is he, Miss
Lavillotte?"

"Far from it. He lo