be which so
amused her, when a pause in the general conversation allowed the following
to be heard,--

"Were you at the last symphony?" Peggy asked sweetly.

"Yes,--no,--that is I think I was, but I can't quite remember," was the
halting answer.

"Oh, you _would_ remember if you were really there," persisted Peggy,
"because the program was extra fine and the solos were something to dream
of."

"Yes, yes the music was er,--very er,--musical, and the soloist, that is,
the one who sang a solo, was er,--the only one who er--sang alone, I
believe."

Randy stifled a wild desire to laugh, for she saw plainly that Peggy was
teasing the youth, who in his extreme diffidence, was appearing as if he
were a simpleton, which was indeed far from the truth.

Peggy well knew that he was a bright young student, and she secretly
admired his intellect, but she was an inveterate tease, and it amused her
to see him blush, and to hear his faltering answers.

She did not mean to hurt him; only a thoughtless mirth tempted her to
torment him; but to Randy, Peggy's conduct seemed very cruel, and she
determined to save the luckless youth from further discomfort. Turning to
Jotham, expecting as usual to find in him an ally, Randy said,

"I saw you talking with Cyril Langdon just before we left the
drawing-room. He is ill at ease, because Peggy is teasing him, but when he
chooses to talk he is very interesting. Do make Peggy stop, she is
spoiling his evening. Ask him,--oh ask him about the Tech. athletics or
anything, Jotham, can't you?"

Jotham, as usual, glad of an opportunity to please Randy, succeeded in
drawing Cyril into a conversation which proved interesting to all, and
made the boy forget his discomfiture.

Peggy was aware of a vague wish that she had been more merciful, and
resolved another time to help, rather than hinder a conversation.

Later, when the gay little party returned to the drawing-room, Randy
begged Miss Dayton to favor her friends with some music. Helen, ever ready
to give pleasure, seated herself at the piano, Professor Marden standing
beside her, ostensibly to turn her music, but in truth to watch her
graceful fingers upon the keys.

Her audience was enthusiastic, and not to be satisfied with one selection.
Helen smilingly acceded to their requests, and when she arose from the
piano she was greeted with generous praise.

Among the happy faces Randy saw one less bright than the others. It was
Polly Lawrenc