ot of people were pushing forward up the aisle toward the lecturer;
some were already shaking hands with him--men as well as women.

Then Missy heard herself uttering an amazing, unpremeditated thing:

"Would you like to go up and shake hands with Mr. Dobson, father?"

The moment after, she was horrified at herself. Why had she said that?
She didn't want to shake hands with a repulsive siren!

But father was answering:

"What? You, too!"

Just what did he mean by that? And by that quizzical sort of smile? She
felt her cheeks growing hot, and wanted to look away. But, now, there
was nothing to do but carry it through in a casual kind of way.

"Oh," she said, "I just thought, maybe, it might be interesting to shake
hands with such a celebrity."

"I see," said father. He was still smiling but, taking hold of her arm,
he began to elbow a slow progress toward the platform.

Just before they reached it, Missy felt a sudden panicky flutter in her
heart. She shrank back.

"You go first," she whispered.

So father went first and shook hands with Mr. Dobson. Then he said:

"This is my daughter."

Not able to lift her eyes, Missy held out her hand; she observed that
Mr. Dobson's was long and slender but had hair on the back of it--he
ought to do something about that; but even as she thought this, the hand
was enclosing hers in a clasp beautifully warm and strong; and a voice,
wonderfully deep and pleasant and vibrant, was heard saying:

"Your daughter?--you're a man to be envied, sir."

Then Missy forced her eyes upward; Mr. Dobson's were waiting to meet
them squarely--bright dark eyes with a laugh in the back of them. And,
then, the queerest thing happened. As he looked at her, that half-veiled
laugh in his eyes seemed to take on a special quality, something
personal and intimate and kindred--as if saying: "You and I understand,
don't we?"

Missy's heart gave a swift, tumultuous dive and flight.

Then he let go her hand, and patiently turned his eyes to the next
comer; but not with the same expression--Missy was sure of that. She
walked on after her father in a kind of daze. The whole thing had taken
scarcely a second; but, oh! what can be encompassed in a second!

Missy was very silent during the homeward journey; she intensely wanted
to be silent. Once father said:

"Well, the man's certainly magnetic--but he seems a decent kind of
fellow. I suppose a lot has been exaggerated." He chuckled. "But I'll
bet