but it makes me so proud to realize the
interest you all take in my work. And, Mr. McNeil, I beg you to return
my gratitude to the gentlemen of the--the (oh, thank you)--the
Cattlemen's Shakespearian Reading Circle (how very nice of you to have
such an organization for the study of higher literature!) for this
superb gift. I shall never forget this night, or what it has brought
me, and I simply cannot express my real feelings at all; I--I don't
know what to say, or--or what to do."

She paused, burying her face in her hands, her body shaken with sobs.
Moffat, scarcely knowing whether to swear or smile, hastily signalled
for the waiting musicians to begin. As they swung merrily into waltz
measure he stepped forward, fully confident of his first claim for that
opening dance, and vaguely conscious that, once upon the floor with
her, he might thus regain his old leadership. Miss Spencer glanced up
at him through her tears.

"I--I really feel scarcely equal to the attempt," she murmured
nervously, yet rising to her feet. Then a new thought seemed suddenly
to occur to her. "Oh, Mr. Moffat, I have been so highly favored, and I
am so extremely anxious to do everything I can to show my gratitude. I
know it is requesting so much of you to ask your relinquishment of this
first dance with me to-night. As president of the Bachelors' Club it
is your right, of course, but don't you truly think I ought to give it
to Mr. McNeil? We were together all the way from the house, you know,
and we had such a delightful walk. You wouldn't truly mind yielding up
your claim for just this once, would you?"

Moffat did not reply, simply because he could not; he was struck dumb,
gasping for breath, the room whirling around before him, while he
stared at her with dazed, unseeing eyes. His very helplessness to
respond she naturally interpreted as acquiescence.

"It is so good of you, Mr. Moffat, for I realize how you were counting
upon this first dance, were n't you? But Mr. McNeil being here as the
guest of your club, I think it is perfectly beautiful of you to waive
your own rights as president, so as to acknowledge his unexpected
contribution to the joy of our evening." She touched him playfully
with her hand, the other resting lightly upon McNeil's sleeve, her
innocent, happy face upturned to his dazed eyes. "But remember, the
next turn is to be yours, and I shall never forget this act of
chivalry."

It is doubtful if he saw he