Oh, well, he's young, and young feet always dance When Pan pipes," explained the father, with a smile that was a bit forced. "But Pan doesn't always pipe, and he's ambitious—Fred is." The man turned eagerly to Mr. Smith again. "He's going to be a lawyer—you see, he's got a chance now. He's a fine student. He led his class in high school, and he'll make good in college, I'm sure. He can have the best there is now, too, without killing himself with work to get it. He's got a fine mind, and—" The man stopped abruptly, with a shamed laugh. "But—enough of this. You'll forgive 'the fond father,' I know. I always forget myself when I'm talking of that boy—or, rather perhaps it's that I'm REMEMBERING myself. You see, I want him to do all that I wanted to do—and couldn't. And—"

"Jim, JIM!" It was Mrs. Hattie in the doorway. "There, I might have known where I'd find you. Come, the guests are going, and are looking for you to say good-night. Jim, you'll have to come! Why, what'll people say? They'll think we don't know anything—how to behave, and all that. Mr. Smith, you'll excuse him, I know."

"Most certainly," declared Mr. Smith. "I must be going myself, for that matter," he finished, as he followed his hostess through the doorway.

Five minutes later he had found Miss Maggie, and was making his adieus.

Miss Maggie, on the way home, was strangely silent.

"Well, that was some party," began Mr. Smith after waiting for her to speak.

"It was, indeed."

"Quite a house!"

"Yes."

"How pretty Miss Mellicent looked!"

"Very pretty."

"I'm glad at last to see that poor child enjoying herself."

"Yes."

Mr. Smith frowned and stole a sidewise glance at his companion. Was it possible? Could Miss Maggie be showing at last a tinge of envy and jealousy? It was so unlike her! And yet—

"Even Miss Flora seemed to be having a good time, in spite of that funereal black," he hazarded again.

"Yes."

"And I'm sure Mrs. James Blaisdell and Miss Bessie were very radiant and shining."

"Oh, yes, they—shone."

Mr. Smith bit his lip, and stole another sidewise glance.

"Er—how did you enjoy it? Did you have a good time?"

"Oh, yes, very."

There was a brief silence. Mr. Smith drew a long breath and began again.

"I had no idea Mr. James Blaisdell was so fond of—er—books. I had quite a chat with him in his den."

No answer.

"He says Fred—"

"Did you see that Gaylord girl?" Miss Maggie was galvanized into sudden life. "He's perfectly bewitched with her. And she—that ridiculous dress—and for a young girl! Oh, I wish Hattie would let those people alone!"

"Oh, well, he'll be off to college next week," soothed Mr. Smith.