or
thinking could do no possible good. Whatever mischief Polly had gotten
into was sure to be beyond one's wildest imagination. It would be much
more agreeable if she might have some one to talk with her and so
distract her attention.

And there was one other guest beside herself who was not dancing.
Betty flushed uncomfortably. It must appear strange to the others to
see Anthony sitting only a short distance away from her and yet paying
no more attention to her presence than if they were upon opposite sides
of the world.

Once or twice Betty looked graciously toward the young man, intending
to smile an invitation to him to sit near her, should he show the
inclination. For possibly he was too much embarrassed to make the
first move. She must remember that he had had no one to teach him good
manners and that he was always both shy and awkward in her presence.

However, at present he seemed totally unaware of her existence and not
in the least requiring entertainment. For he was watching the dancers
with such profound concentration that apparently his entire attention
was absorbed by them.

The girl had an unusually good opportunity for studying the young man's
face. She had not noticed until tonight how thin he was and how clear
and finely cut his features. There was no trace of his Italian mother
left, save in his black hair and in the curious glow which his skin
showed underneath its pallor. His nose was big--too big, Betty
thought--and his lips closed and firm. He had a kind of hungry look.
Hungry for what? the girl wondered. Then she had a sudden feeling of
compunction. Anthony might sometimes even be hungry for food, he
worked so hard, made so little money and was so busy by day and night.
Before tonight she might have helped him without his knowing or even
caring, if he had guessed her purpose. But after tonight? Well, Betty
felt reasonably sure that she and Anthony could never be upon exactly
the same footing again. For somehow she had hurt him more than she had
intended, not realizing that any one could be at once so humble and so
proud. And as she had made one of those mistakes that one can never
apologize for, there was no point in dwelling on it any longer. Only
she did regret by this time that deep down in her heart there must
still linger her old narrow attitude toward money and good birth. She
was poor enough herself now, and yet in her case, as in so many others,
had it not made her