A DINNER.

The last remark made by Miss De Voe to her fire resulted, after a few
days, in Peter's receiving a formal dinner invitation, which he accepted
with a promptness not to be surpassed by the best-bred diner-out. He
regretted now his vamping of the old suit. Peter understood that he was
in for quite another affair than the Avery, the Gallagher, or even the
Purple dinner. He did not worry, however, and if in the dressing-room he
looked furtively at the coats of the other men, he entirely forgot the
subject the moment he started downstairs, and thought no further of it
till he came to take off the suit in his own room.

When Peter entered the drawing-room, he found it well filled with young
people, and for a moment a little of the bewildered feeling of four
years before came over him. But he found himself chatting with Miss De
Voe, and the feeling left him as quickly as it had come. In a moment he
was introduced to a "Miss Lenox," who began talking in an easy way which
gave Peter just as much or as little to say as he chose. Peter wondered
if many girls were as easy to talk to as--as--Miss Lenox.

He took Miss De Voe in, and found Dorothy Ogden sitting on his other
side. He had barely exchanged greetings with her, when he heard his name
spoken from across the table, and looking up, he found Miss Leroy
sitting opposite.

"I hope you haven't entirely forgotten me," that girl said, the moment
his attention was caught.

"Not at all," said Peter.

"Nor my dress," laughed Miss Leroy.

"I remember the style, material, and train."

"Especially the train I am sure."

"Do explain these mysterious remarks," said Dorothy.

"Mr. Stirling and I officiated at a wedding, and I was in such mortal
terror lest some usher should step on my gown, that it became a joke."

"Whose wedding was that?" asked Miss De Voe.

"Miss Pierce's and Watts D'Alloi's," said the bridesmaid.

"Do you know Watts D'Alloi?" exclaimed Miss De Voe to Peter.

"Yes."

"Indeed! When?"

"At college."

"Are you a Harvard man?"

"Yes."

"You were Mr. D'Alloi's chum, weren't you?" said Miss Leroy.

"Yes."

"Watts D'Alloi?" again exclaimed Miss De Voe.

"Yes."

"But he's a mere boy."

"He's two years my senior."

"You don't mean it?"

"Yes."

"I thought you were over thirty."

"Most people do."

Miss De Voe said to herself, "I don't know as much about him as I
thought I did. He may be very frank, but he doesn't tell all