Harrington, from Collingwood. Harold had been looking for them, anxious
to see the crimson satin trimmed with ermine, of which Dick had told
him. Many of the guests he had mentally criticised unsparingly, but Mrs.
St. Claire, he knew, was genuine, and his face beamed, when in passing
him, she smiled upon him with her sweet, gracious manner, and said,
pleasantly:

'Good evening, Harold. I knew you were to be here. Dick told me, and he
wanted to come and assist you, but I thought he'd better stay home with
Nina.'

Up to this time no one had spoken to Harold, and he had spoken to no one
except to tell them where to go, but had, as far as possible, followed
Mrs. Tracy's injunction to be a machine. But the machine was getting a
little tired. It was hard work to stand for two hours or more, and Mrs.
Tracy had impressed it upon him that he was not to sit down. But when
Mrs. St. Claire came from the dressing-room and stood before him a
moment in her crimson satin and pearls, he forgot his weariness and
forgot that he was not to talk, and said to her, involuntarily:

'Oh, Mrs. St. Claire, how handsome you look! Handsomer than anybody yet,
and different, too, somehow.'

Edith knew the compliment was genuine, and she replied:

'Thank you, Harold,' then, laying her hand on the boy's head and parting
his soft, brown hair, she said, as she noticed a look of fatigue in his
eyes, 'are you not tired, standing so long? Why don't you bring a chair
from one of the rooms and sit when you can?'

'She told me to stand,' Harold replied, nodding toward the parlors, from
which a strain of music then issued.

The dancing had commenced, and Harold's feet and hands beat time to the
lively strains of the piano and violin, until he could contain himself
no longer. The dancing he must see at all hazards and know what it was
like, and when the last guests came up the stairs there was no hall boy
there to tell them, 'Ladies this way, gentlemen that,' for Harold was in
the thickest of the crowd, standing on a chair so as to look over the
heads of those in front of him and see the dancers. But, alas, for poor
Harold! He was soon discovered by Mrs. Tracy, who, asking him if he did
not know his place better than that, ordered him back to his post, where
he was told to stay until the party was over.

Wholly unconscious of the nature of his offence, but very sorry that he
had offended, Harold went up the stairs, wondering why he could not see
the dan