nths ago she, too, was romping
through the dances with Jimmy and Pink, and imagining that a fox-trot
divided between ten partners constituted the height of enjoyment. Mr.
Phipps had told her in the summer that she was changing. "The little
butterfly is emerging from her chrysalis," was the poetic way he had
phrased it, with an accompanying look that spoke volumes.

Once on the dance floor, however, she forgot her superior mood and
enjoyed herself inordinately until supper-time. Just as she and Pink were
starting for the refreshment room, she caught sight of a familiar
graceful figure, standing apart from the crowd, watching her with level,
penetrating eyes.

"Pink, I forgot!" she said hastily; "I'm engaged for supper. I'll see you
later." And without further apology she slipped through the throng and
joined Harold.

"Let's get out of this," he said, lightly touching her bare arm and
piloting her toward the porch.

"But don't you want any supper?" asked Eleanor, amazed.

"Not when I have you," whispered Harold.

Eleanor gave a regretful glance at a mammoth tray of sandwiches being
passed, then allowed herself to be drawn out through the French window
into the cool darkness of the wide veranda.

"Let's sit in that car down by the first tee," Harold suggested. "It's
only a step."

Eleanor hesitated. One of the ten social commandments imposed upon her
was that she was never to leave the porch at a Country Club dance. That
the porch edge should be regarded as the limit of propriety had always
seemed to her the height of absurdity; but so far she had obeyed the
family and confined her flirtations to shadowy corners and dim nooks
under bending palms.

"What's the trouble?" Harold inquired solicitously. "The little gold
slippers?"

"No--I don't mind the slippers; but, you see, I'm not supposed to go off
the porch."

"How ridiculous! Of course you are going off the porch. I have only one
hour to stay, and I've something very important to tell you."

"But why can't we sit here?" she insisted, indicating an unoccupied
bench.

"Because those ubiquitous youngsters will be clamoring for you the moment
the music begins. Haven't you had enough noise for one night? Perhaps you
prefer to go inside and be pushed about and eat messy things with your
fingers?"

"Now you are horrid!" Eleanor pouted. "I only thought----"

"You mean you _didn't_ think!" corrected Harold, putting the tip of his
finger under her chin and til