roduce
me if she ever had the chance, but she may never even meet him. She is
such a queer girl; she doesn't care the least bit about boys."

"A very sensible young person, I should say," remarked Mr. Carleton,
dryly. "How old is your friend Lulu?"

"Nearly fourteen; quite old enough to be interested in something besides
dolls, but she's dreadfully young for her age."

"I wish some other little girls were young for their age," said Mr.
Carleton; "it doesn't appear to be a common failing in these days."

Elsie flushed and looked annoyed.

"That boy really has a very nice face," put in Mrs. Carleton, anxious to
change the subject, "and his devotion to his mother is charming. I
suppose her husband must have died recently; she is in such deep
mourning."

While the others were talking, Marjorie, whose eyes had been wandering
rapidly from one group to another, had finally fixed themselves upon the
party at the opposite table. They certainly looked attractive; the
gentleman with the strong, clever face, and hair just turning gray; the
pretty, gentle little mother in her black dress, and the handsome
college boy, with merry blue eyes. It was quite natural that Elsie
should want to know them, but why in the world didn't she speak to them
herself without waiting to be introduced? It seemed so strange and
inhospitable to live in the same house with people and not speak to
them. So when her aunt had finished her remarks about the Randolph
family, she turned to Elsie and inquired innocently:

"If you want to know that boy so much why don't you tell him so?"

There was a moment of astonished silence; then Elsie giggled.

"You are the funniest girl I ever met, Marjorie," she said. "Why don't
you do it yourself?"

"Elsie," said her mother in a tone of shocked reproof, and turning to
Marjorie, she added gravely:

"When you have been in New York a little longer, my dear, you will learn
that it is not the proper thing for young girls to speak to strangers
to whom they have not been introduced."

There was no doubt about the snub this time, and poor Marjorie was
horribly embarrassed. She cast an appealing glance at her uncle, but he
appeared to be absorbed, and finding no help from Elsie either, she
relapsed into silence, and did not speak again for at least five
minutes.

After all, that first evening could scarcely be called a success. Mr.
and Mrs. Carleton were very kind, and Elsie seemed disposed to be
friendly, but Ma