t!" he added
in his effort to interest her.

"But let him come some other time," she coaxed, holding the lapel of his
coat, her eyes searching his.

"What, turn to the wall a magnificent old portrait!" This came with a
mock grimace, his body bent forward, his eyes brimming with laughter.

"Be serious, Jack, and tell me if you think it very nice in you to stay
upstairs in your den when I am giving a dance? Everybody will know you
are at home, and we haven't enough men as it is. Garry can't come, he
writes me. He has to dine with some men at the club."

"I really AM sorry, Corinne, but I can't this time." Jack had hold
of her hand now; for a brief moment he was sorry he had not postponed
Peter's visit until the next day; he hated to cause any woman a
disappointment. "If it was anybody else I might send him word to call
another night, but you don't know Mr. Grayson; he isn't the kind of a
man you can treat like that. He does me a great honor to come, anyhow.
Just think of his coming to see a boy like me--and he so--"

"Well, bring him downstairs, then." Her eyes began to flash; she had
tried all the arts she knew--they were not many--but they had won
heretofore. "Mother will take care of him. A good many of the girls'
fathers come for them."

"Bring him downstairs to a dance!" Jack answered with a merry laugh. "He
isn't that kind of an old gentleman, either. Why, Corinne, you ought to
see him! You might as well ask old Bishop Gooley to lead the german."

Jack's foot was now ready to mount the lower step of the stairs. Corinne
bit her lip.

"You never do anything to please me!" she snapped back. She knew she
was fibbing, but something must be done to check this new form of
independence--and then, now that Garry couldn't come, she really needed
him. "You don't want to come, that's it--" She facing him now, her
little nose high in the air, her cheeks flaming with anger.

"You must not say that, Corinne," he answered in a slightly indignant
tone.

Corinne drew herself up to her full height--toes included; not very
high, but all she could do--and said in a voice pitched to a high key,
her finger within a few inches of his nose:

"It's true, and I will say it!"

The rustle of silk was heard overhead, and a plump, tightly laced woman
in voluminous furs, her head crowned by a picture hat piled high with
plumes, was making her way down the stairs. Jack looked up and waved his
hand to his aunt, and then stood at mock