ilted by such a chit of a girl.
She also stood very much in awe of Miss Metoaca's ready wit and
formidable tongue.

Nancy was immediately carried off by an impatient partner for the next
dance, and Miss Metoaca was left chatting with Senator Warren and Lord
Lyons, the British minister. Mrs. Arnold, flushed with her labors as
hostess, stopped near them, and the Englishman turned at once and
complimented her on the decorations of her ball-room.

"I am delighted you approve of my taste, your Excellency," she said
complacently. "Have you seen our new oil painting which my husband has
just purchased at Goupil's in New York?"

"No, I have not had that pleasure," replied the diplomat courteously.

"Then come with me. You, too, Miss Metoaca, and Senator Warren. I would
very much like your opinion of the painting. It is called 'Jupiter and
Ten.' What 'Ten' has to do with it is beyond me. There are not ten
figures in the picture; nor did we pay ten dollars for it."

By that time they had reached the painting, a fine work by a famous
artist. Underneath, on the brass name plate, were the words: "JUPITER
AND IO."

"The technique is fine," murmured Lord Lyons feebly, adjusting his
monocle. Whereat Mrs. Arnold beamed with delight.

"It is indeed an excellent painting," exclaimed Miss Metoaca, her eyes
twinkling. "You are to be congratulated, Mrs. Arnold. I must go and
find Nancy, as I want to introduce her to Mrs. Scott, the wife of the
new member from Pennsylvania."

"Let me escort you, Miss Metoaca," said the Senator gallantly.

Nancy was not hard to find, and, after she had met Mrs. Scott, Senator
Warren asked her to sit out a dance with him.

"If I can escape my next partner, I will do so with pleasure."

"Suppose we sit in that alcove by the palms, he will never find us
there," suggested the senator, and he led the way to the sofa, which
was partially concealed from view, only to find Mrs. Bennett
comfortably installed on one end of it.

"There is plenty of room for all," she declared, as Nancy drew back.
"Colonel Bennett has gone with Mr. Arnold, and, being partnerless, I
came over here to enjoy watching the dancers. Where is Mrs. Warren this
evening, Senator?"

"Sick in bed with a bad headache," returned Warren, sitting down
between the two women. "I would not have come to-night, but she
insisted it would not be neighborly to back out at the last moment."

"So, like an obedient American husband, you sacrificed