f,
censoriously, in the vestibule: "Well, if I can't talk any better at
that age than they do...!" Yes, Elsie would undeniably have been an
aid; but she never existed, and we must dispense with her for once and
for all.

Raymond could always make himself difficult, and he usually did so at
parties. To be difficult was to be choice, and to be choice was to be
desirable. Therefore he got more of the kisses than he might have got
otherwise--many more, in fact, than he cared for. But on this occasion a
good part of his talent for making himself difficult was reserved until
refreshment time. Most of the boys and girls had paired instinctively to
make a prompt raid on the dining-room table, with Johnny McComas
unabashedly to the fore; but Raymond lingered behind. My mother
presently found him moping alone in the parlor, where he was looking
with an over-emphatic care at the pictures.

"Why, Raymond dear! Why aren't you out with the others? Don't you want
anything to eat?"

No; Raymond didn't want anything.

"But you do--of course you do. Come."

Then Raymond, thus urged and escorted,--and, above all,
individualized,--allowed himself to be led out to the refreshments; and,
to do him justice, he ate as much and as happily as any one else. Johnny
McComas, with his mouth full, and with Gertrudes and Adeles all around
him, welcomed him with the high sign of jovial _camaraderie_.

Yes, Johnny took his full share of the ice-cream and macaroons; he got
his full quota of letters from the "post-office"; the handkerchief was
dropped behind him every third or fourth time, and he always caught the
attentive little girl who was whisking away--if he wanted to. He even
took a manful part in the dancing.

"What a good schottische!" exclaimed one of the Adeles, as the
industrious lady from next door, after a final bang, withdrew her hands
from the keyboard. "And how well you dance!"

"Gee!" exclaimed Johnny, with his most open-faced smile; "is that what
you call it--a schottische? I never tried it before in my life!"

"Learn by doing"--such might have been the motto of the town in those
early, untutored days. And Johnny McComas emphatically made this motto
his own.

PART II

I

Raymond went into the bank; not in due course, but rather more than a
year later. After seeing some of his more advanced schoolfellows depart
for Eastern colleges, after indulging a year of desultory study at home,
and after passing a summer and