pression changed.

The boy looked at her pleadingly as he added:

"She has so few pleasures, and she would so like to have
acquaintances--to make friends."

"I dare say," dryly.

"She--she doesn't know any one. Won't you--all come and join us?" There
was entreaty in the boy's voice.

Mrs. Taylor rose out of her hips until she looked all of seven feet tall
to Hughie.

"You must excuse me, Mr. Disston." She hesitated, then added in
explanation: "When we came West I told myself that I must not allow
myself to deteriorate in rough surroundings, and I have made it a rule
never to mingle with any but the best, Mr. Disston. My father,"
impressively, "was a prominent undertaker in Philadelphia, and as
organist in a large Methodist church in that city I came in contact with
the best people, so you understand," blandly, "don't you, why I
cannot--"

The boy was red to the rim of his ears as he bowed formally to mother
and daughter.

"I don't in the least," he replied, coldly.

The pain in Kate's eyes hurt him when he returned to his seat and she
asked.

"They wouldn't come?"

He hesitated, then answered bluntly:

"No."

"H-had we better stay?"

"Yes," he replied, doggedly, "we'll stay."

Their efforts at conversation were not a success, and it was a relief to
them both when Hiram Butefish, as Floor Manager, commanded everybody to
take partners for a waltz.

Hughie arose and held out his hands to Kate.

"Hughie, I can't," she protested, shrinking back. "I'm--afraid."

"Yes, you can," determinedly. "Don't let these people think they can
frighten you."

"I'll try because you want me to," she answered, "but it's all gone out
of my head, and I know I can't."

"You'll get it directly," as he took her hand. "Just remember and count.
One, two, three--now!"

The bystanders tittered as she stumbled. The sound stung the boy like a
whip, his black eyes flashed, but he said calmly enough:

"You make too much of it, Katie. Put your mind on the time and count."

She tried once more with no better result. She merely hopped, regardless
of the music.

"I tell you I can't, Hughie," she said, despairingly. "Let's sit down."

"Never mind," soothingly as he acquiesced, "we'll try it again after a
while. The next will very likely be a square dance and I can pilot you
through that."

"You're so good!"

He looked away to avoid her grateful eyes. What would she say if she
knew the reason he had brought her there? On a