"Why, Mellicent! Away? And just to-morrow the Pennocks' dance?"

"But that's it—that's why I want to go," flashed Mellicent." I don't want to be at the dance—and I don't want to be in town, and NOT at the dance."

Mr. Smith, at his table in the corner, glanced nervously toward the door, then bent assiduously over his work, as being less conspicuous than the flight he had been tempted for a moment to essay. But even this was not to be, for the next moment, to his surprise, the girl appealed directly to him.

"Mr. Smith, please, won't YOU take me somewhere to-morrow?"

"Mellicent!" Even Miss Maggie was shocked now, and showed it.

"I can't help it, Aunt Maggie. I've just got to be away!" Mellicent's voice was tragic.

"But, my dear, to ASK a gentleman—" reproved Miss Maggie. She came to an indeterminate pause. Mr. Smith had crossed the room and dropped into a chair near them.

"See here, little girl, suppose you tell us just what is behind—all this," he began gently.

Mellicent shook her head stubbornly.

"I can't. It's too—silly. Please let it go that I want to be away. That's all."

"Mellicent, we can't do that." Miss Maggie's voice was quietly firm. "We can't do—anything, until you tell us what it is."

There was a brief pause. Mellicent's eyes, still mutinous, sought first the kindly questioning face of the man, then the no less kindly but rather grave face of the woman. Then in a little breathless burst it came.

"It's just something they're all saying Mrs. Pennock said—about me."

"What was it?" Two little red spots had come into Miss Maggie's cheeks.

"Yes, what was it?" Mr. Smith was looking actually belligerent.

"It was just that—that they weren't going to let Carl Pennock go with me any more—anywhere, or come to see me, because I—I didn't belong to their set."

"Their set!" exploded Mr. Smith.

Miss Maggie said nothing, but the red spots deepened.

"Yes. It's just—that we aren't rich like them. I haven't got—money enough."

"That you haven't got—got—Oh, ye gods!" For no apparent reason whatever Mr. Smith threw back his head suddenly and laughed. Almost instantly, however, he sobered: he had caught the expression of the two faces opposite.

"I beg your pardon," he apologized promptly. "It was only that to me— there was something very funny about that."

"But, Mellicent, are you sure? I don't believe she ever said it," doubted Miss Maggie.

"He hasn't been near me—for a week. Not that I care!" Mellicent turned with flashing eyes. "I don't care a bit—not a bit—about THAT!"

"Of course you don't! It's not worth even thinking of either. What does it matter if she did say it, dear? Forget it!"