he room with three partners in turn--one of
them his brother--set his pulses throbbing. Phil in her simple white
gown--this glowing, joyous woman was no longer of his world. For the
first time in his life his heart was shot through with jealousy. He had
always felt Charles's superiority, but with a younger brother's loyal
admiration he had not resented it. He resented it now. Fred had
resurrected a cutaway coat for this adventure, and he was acutely aware
that there were more dress-coats in evidence than he had imagined were
available in Montgomery. Amzi, who had greeted him kindly, introduced
him to a visiting girl whose name he did not catch, and he was doing his
best to present an appearance of ease in talking to her. It had been a
long time since he had danced, and he did not know the new steps. The
girl asked him why he did not invite her to dance, and this added to his
discomfiture. There is no greater unhappiness than that of the
non-dancing young man at a dancing-party. He is drawn to such functions
by a kind of fascination; he does not understand why other young men
with no better brains than his are able to encircle the waists of the
most beautiful girls and guide them through difficult evolutions. He
vows that he will immediately submit himself to instruction and lift
himself from the pits of torment.

The visiting girl was carried off, evidently to her relief and delight,
by a strange young man and Fred was left stranded in an alcove. He had
never felt so lonesome in his life. Phil vanished and now that he no
longer enjoyed even his earlier swift glimpses of her, his dejection
increased. He was meditating an escape when, as his eyes sought her, she
stood suddenly breathless beside him. A divinity had no right thus to
appear unheralded before mortal eyes. Fred blushed furiously and put out
his hand awkwardly. Phil's latest partner begged for another dance;
there was to be an extra, he pleaded; but she dismissed him with a wave
of her fan. There had been high-school dances where Phil had learned to
steel her heart against the importunate.

"Why didn't you come and speak to me?" demanded Phil when they were
alone.

"I was just waiting for a chance. I didn't want to bother you."

"Well, you'll have to do better than this! You're the only person in the
house who hasn't spoken to me! But it was nice of you to come: it must
be a trouble to come to town at night when you live so far." She sat
down in the window-