in him the makings of a
cotillon leader.

Then came from the yard a sound of tuning instruments, squeak of fiddle,
croon of 'cello, a falling triangle ringing and tinkling to the floor;
and he turned pale.

Chosen guests began to arrive, while Penrod, suffering from stage-fright
and perspiration, stood beside his mother, in the "drawing-room,"
to receive them. He greeted unfamiliar acquaintances and intimate
fellow-criminals with the same frigidity, murmuring: "'M glad to see
y'," to all alike, largely increasing the embarrassment which always
prevails at the beginning of children's festivities. His unnatural pomp
and circumstance had so thoroughly upset him, in truth, that Marjorie
Jones received a distinct shock, now to be related. Doctor Thrope, the
kind old clergyman who had baptized Penrod, came in for a moment to
congratulate the boy, and had just moved away when it was Marjorie's
turn, in the line of children, to speak to Penrod. She gave him what she
considered a forgiving look, and, because of the occasion, addressed him
in a perfectly courteous manner.

"I wish you many happy returns of the day, Penrod."

"Thank you, sir!" he returned, following Dr. Thrope with a glassy
stare in which there was absolutely no recognition of Marjorie. Then he
greeted Maurice Levy, who was next to Marjorie: "'M glad to see y'!"

Dumfounded, Marjorie turned aside, and stood near, observing Penrod with
gravity. It was the first great surprise of her life. Customarily,
she had seemed to place his character somewhere between that of the
professional rioter and that of the orang-outang; nevertheless, her
manner at times just hinted a consciousness that this Caliban was her
property. Wherefore, she stared at him incredulously as his head bobbed
up and down, in the dancing-school bow, greeting his guests. Then she
heard an adult voice, near her, exclaim:

"What an exquisite child!"

Mariorie galanced up--a little consciously, though she was used to
it--naturally curious to ascertain who was speaking of her. It was Sam
Williams' mother addressing Mrs. Bassett, both being present to help
Mrs. Schofield make the festivities festive.

"Exquisite!"

Here was a second heavy surprise for Marjorie: they were not looking
at her. They were looking with beaming approval at a girl she had never
seen; a dark and modish stranger of singularly composed and yet modest
aspect. Her downcast eyes, becoming in one thus entering a crowded room,