in his
sudden departure, since it is not the first time he has gone with a
very brief announcement. A thrill of satisfaction speeds through her at
the thought of his wishing to find her, and she is truly very sorry
that he should miss anything of the slightest consequence to him.

"I ought not have stayed," she says, with tender regret. "But I
remembered I had promised to call on Miss Kirkbride, and I wanted to
before I met her to-night. Oh----" and she pauses in vague questioning.

"That is all right. Floyd engaged me for your loyal knight and true,"
announces Eugene, in a confident tone, bowing ludicrously low.

Violet laughs, then a faint pink is added to the color in her cheek. It
is like her husband's thoughtful ways.

"I am not sure I ought to go. Why, I have never been out without Mr.
Grandon," she says, in alarm.

"Well, he has often been out without you," returns Eugene, with what he
considers comforting frankness. "And then--it wouldn't do at all, you
see. Mother is away, and there is not a single member of the family to
do honor to Marcia, for if you remained at home I should stay to keep
you company. And Marcia made a great point of our coming."

She has been pulling off her gloves, and now goes slowly up-stairs.
Cecil has run on before and Jane is busy with her, but she calls
eagerly as Violet passes through the hall. There lays the note on her
table, a fond farewell to her and Cecil, a kiss to each, and regrets
that he must go in such haste, but not a word about the party.

"I am all ready first," announces Cecil, coming in, attired in a fresh
white dress.

"Yes, my darling. That is from papa," as she stoops and kisses her,
"who has had to go away without a bit of good-by."

Cecil questions as to where he is gone, and why he went, and why he did
not stay until after luncheon; and Violet explains patiently, recalling
past times when the child has been almost inconsolable. She is so
solaced by her message that she does not think of any other side.

Still, she is not quite satisfied to go without him to so large a
gathering, and brings up half a dozen pretty reasons that Eugene
combats and demolishes.

"And there will be dancing," she says.

"It would be stupid if there were not," the young man replies. "Such
people as the Latimers and the Mavericks can talk forever, but Marcia
hardly keeps up to concert pitch in a long harangue, and Wilmarth is
not altogether a society man, though I must say he