ther allows it?"

"Certainly he does," said Jim. "Don't get tragic, Cecil. The men on the
place are an awfully decent lot, and most of them have been here ever
so long--besides, it's their one night in the year, and they never
overstep their limits. Dad always plans this spree himself specially.
Of course, if you don't like--"

Jim stopped short, and bit his tongue. It had suddenly occurred to him
that he was host--and he had nearly said something rude. So he whistled
vaguely, and asked Wally if he were going to dance with Lee Wing, who
was the Chinese gardener.

"Wish I could get the chance," said Wally, his eyes twinkling. "Think
of piloting fat old Lee Wing through a polka--he'd get so beautifully
puffed, and his pigtail would wave in the breeze, and he'd be such an
armful!"

"Do you mean to say that Chow comes, too?" queried Cecil.

"No; he's shy," Wally answered. "We've tried to get him, but in vain;
he prefers to go to bed and dream of China. And Billy hangs about like
a black ghost, but he won't come in. So we lose a lot of international
enjoyment; but, even so, what's left is pretty good, itsn't it, Norah?"

"I love it," said Norah.

"And you don't get any of your own friends to come? It seems to me the
queerest arrangement," said Cecil.

"It's the men's dance, don't you see? There wouldn't be much fun for
them if the place were filled up with our friends."

"Well, I should think a few of your own sort would be better. Aren't
there any girls or boys within reach that you know? I suppose you've a
juvenile sweetheart or two in the district?"

Norah looked at him blankly. Wally gave an expressive wriggle in his
chair, and Jim sat up suddenly, with a flush on his brown face.

"We never talk that sort of rot here," he said angrily. "Norah's not a
town girl, and her head isn't full of idiotic, silly bosh. I'll thank
you--"

Mr. Linton came in at the moment, and the point on which Jim intended
to express his gratitude remained unuttered. Cecil had reddened
wrathfully, and the general atmosphere was electric. Mr. Linton took,
apparently, no notice. He pulled Norah's hair gently as he passed her.

"You're all remarkably spruce," he commented. "Can any one tell me why
almost every maid I have met in my house this day turns and flees as
though I were the plague? Sarah is the only one who doesn't shun me,
and her mind appears to be taken up with affairs of State, for I asked
her twice if she had seen my toba