had changed my mind and decided to have supper before we
danced.

Selwyn bit his lip and his eyes narrowed, then over his face swept
change, and, shaking hands with David Guard, he went forward and
spoke to Mrs. Mundy and Bettina; shook hands with Mr. Crimm, and met
in turn each of my guests. Why had he come to-night of all nights? I
asked myself. He evidently intended to stay and perhaps my party
might be ruined.

But it was not ruined. With an ability I did not know he possessed
Selwyn gave himself to the furtherance of the evening's pleasure,
talking to first one and then the other, and later, with the ease of
long usage, he waited on Mrs. Gibbons and Mrs. Crimm, serving them
punctiliously with all that was included in the evening's
refreshments. When there was nothing more that he could do I saw him
sitting between Gracie Hurd the little shirtwaist girl, and Marion
Spade, a waitress at one of the up-town restaurants, eating his
supper as they ate theirs, and they were finding him apparently
somewhat more than entertaining.

From my corner where I poured tea I watched the pictures made by the
different groupings and tried not to think of Selwyn. He was
behaving well, but he didn't approve of what I was doing. He rarely
approves of what I do.

"Do let Mrs. Mundy bring you some hot oysters." I leaned over and
spoke to Bettie Flynn, upon whom Mrs. Mundy and I were keeping watch
lest she show signs of her old trouble. "And can't I give you a cup
of coffee?" I held out my hand for her empty cup.

Bettie shook her head regarding the coffee, but handed her plate to
Mrs. Mundy. "You certainly can give me some more oysters. I've been
an Inmate for nine years and Inmates don't often have a chance at
oysters. At the City Home your chief nourishment is thankfulness.
You're expected to get fat on thankfulness. I ain't thankful, which
is what keeps me thin, maybe." She turned to me. "My dress looks
real nice, don't it? Seeing we're such different shapes, it's
strange how good your clothes fit me. I hope the rats won't eat this
dress. I'm going to keep it to be buried in. Good gracious! I
didn't know you was going to have ice-cream and cake. I wouldn't
have et all them oysters if I'd known."

When supper was over Dick Banister, who is Gracie Hurd's beau, asked
me, with awkward bowing, for the first dance, and, beginning with
him, I danced with every man in the room who made pretense of knowing
how, exc