as genuine reasons why he cannot
come, the note must be handed at once to me, so that I arrange some
other partner. Is all understood? Yes. The gentlemen will remember now
to allow the ladies plenty of time to reach their houses and prepare
to receive calls. Ladies and gentlemen, I thank you for your polite
attention."

It was nine blocks to the house of Marjorie Jones; but Penrod did it in
less than seven minutes from a flying start--such was his haste to lay
himself and his hand for the cotillon at the feet of one who had so
recently spoken unamiably of him in public. He had not yet learned that
the only safe male rebuke to a scornful female is to stay away from
her--especially if that is what she desires. However, he did not wish
to rebuke her; simply and ardently he wished to dance the cotillon with
her. Resentment was swallowed up in hope.

The fact that Miss Jones' feeling for him bore a striking resemblance to
that of Simon Legree for Uncle Tom, deterred him not at all. Naturally,
he was not wholly unconscious that when he should lay his hand for the
cotillon at her feet it would be her inward desire to step on it; but
he believed that if he were first in the field Marjorie would have to
accept. These things are governed by law.

It was his fond intention to reach her house even in advance of herself,
and with grave misgiving he beheld a large automobile at rest before the
sainted gate. Forthwith, a sinking feeling became a portent inside him
as little Maurice Levy emerged from the front door of the house.

"'Lo, Penrod!" said Maurice airily.

"What you doin' in there?" inquired Penrod.

"In where?"

"In Marjorie's."

"Well, what shouldn't I be doin' in Marjorie's?" Mr. Levy returned
indignantly. "I was inviting her for my partner in the cotillon--what
you s'pose?"

"You haven't got any right to!" Penrod protested hotly. "You can't do it
yet."

"I did do it yet!" said Maurice.

"You can't!" insisted Penrod. "You got to allow them time first. He said
the ladies had to be allowed time to prepare."

"Well, ain't she had time to prepare?"

"When?" Penrod demanded, stepping close to his rival threateningly. "I'd
like to know when----"

"When?" echoed the other with shrill triumph. "When? Why, in mamma's
sixty-horse powder limousine automobile, what Marjorie came home with me
in! I guess that's when!"

An impulse in the direction of violence became visible upon the
countenance of Penrod.

"I expe