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 FLAMING

YOUTH

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feel any too comfortable about that. Once he had danced with Cissie, and once sat out with her on the piazza; and Pat didn’t feel at all comfortable about that. Here it was the twelfth dance and he hadn’t come near her. Between two numbers she caught sight of him just outside a door, and then and there deserted a lamenting partner. “Mister Scott!” He turned, and, in spite of himself, felt his breath quicken. She was so superb in the sure luxuriance of her youth; so appealing in the poise of her body, the turn of

her head. “Having a good time?” he asked courteously. “Gorgeous!” she said mechanically. “Who you taking

in to supper?” “Your very charming little friend, Miss Parmenter.” “Oh!?? said Pat. “That’s terribly nice of you. If it weren’t for you,” she added viciously, “I’m afraid Cissie’d be having a dull time.” “J haven’t noticed that she’s had many dull moments,” he answered, smiling slightly. Pat stamped her foot. ‘Then you’ve been watching her all the time. I think you might have——” She choked a little. “Night air too much for you, Pat?” he inquired solicitously. “No; it isn’t. .. . Aren’t you going to ask me for a dance, Mr. Scott? You didn’t last night, either.” “Surely your programme is already full to overflowing. oF “Tt is. But I might do some shifty work with it.” “Thoughtful of you. But you would doubtless find it more amusing to sit out, or perhaps I should say stand out, the later dances in some remote nook with some attrac-

tive youth.” He was speaking quite slowly and softly. “X might even say... any attractive youth.”