lood had mounted to his brow and
stayed there. Even Tilly was telling him how to deport himself. He
adored her, but he was angry enough to have sworn in her gentle,
uplifted eyes. She observed his moody mien and playfully shook his arm.

"Don't be mad," she urged, sweetly. "I meant no harm, but I _do_ want
them all to like you, and I'm afraid they won't if you fail in little
things like that just now. They won't understand--they will think you
are stuck up, and I know you are not a bit vain. I am sure of that--as
sure as I'm alive. If you were I'd not like you."

She had intimated that she liked him, and that ought to have been
sufficient to quell the storm within him, but it did not quite. Her
rebuke hurt far more than any which had ever come to him. She adroitly
changed the subject. She spoke of the work on the court-house and
praised his part of it, but what did that matter? He knew what his work
was and he was just learning profound and relentless things about the
difference between himself and her--between her puzzling environment and
his, which was all too distinctly plain for his present comfort. As they
neared Teasdale's and saw the lights streaming from the open doors and
windows across the lush greensward and noted the considerable collection
of horses and vehicles under the shade-trees and along the fences, he
became conscious of an overwhelming timidity with which he felt unable
to cope. Had Tilly been like himself and feared the entry into the light
and easy gaiety of the chattering throng, he would not have felt so
isolated. But her very unconsciousness of the thing as any sort of
ordeal to be dreaded depressed him as emphasizing the fateful
demarcation between her walk of life and his.

They reached the steps of the large, rather rambling one-story
farm-house. There was a long veranda in front, both ends of which were
filled with merrymakers. There was a wide hallway, and it, too, was
filled with jolly, loud-talking couples, as well as the big parlor on
the right.

"Oh, here they are!" Sally Teasdale cried, coming forward and taking
Tilly into her slim, pretentious arms. "I heard of you two poking along
like snails on the big road. As if you couldn't see enough of Mr. Trott
at home! I am going to introduce myself to him, to pay you back. I'm
Sally Teasdale"--holding out her hand to John--"and I am glad you came
to my party."

John did not know what he said, if he said anything audible. It was the
da