Dorian seemed unable to say anything which would calm the mother’s fears.  That Carlia should be keeping company with someone other than himself, had never occurred to him.  And yet, why not? she was aid enough to accept attention from young men.  He had certainly neglected her, as the mother had implied.  The girl had such few opportunities for going out, why should she not accept such as came to her.  But this stranger, this outsider!  Dorian soon took his departure.

He went home, unhitched, and put up his horse; but instead of going into the house, he walked down to the post office.  He found nothing in his box.  He felt better in the open, so he continued to walk.  He had told his mother he was going to the city, so he might as well walk that way.  Soon the lights gleamed through the coming darkness.  He went on with his confused thoughts, on into the city and to the moving picture show.  He bought a ticket and an attendant led him stumbling in the dark room to a seat.

It was the first time he had been there.  He and Carlia were going together.  It was quite wonderful to the young man to see the actors moving about lifelike on the white screen.  The story contained a number of love-making scenes, which, had they been enacted in real life, in public as this was, they would certainly have been stopped by the police.  Then there was a comic picture wherein a young fellow was playing pranks on an old man.  The presentation could hardly be said to teach respect for old age, but the audience laughed uproariously at it.

When the picture closed and the lights went on, Dorian turned about to leave, and there stood Carlia.  A young man was assisting her into her light wraps.  She saw him, so there was no escape, and they spoke to each other.  Carlia introduced her escort, Mr. Lamont.

“Glad to know you,” said Mr. Lamont, in a hearty way.  “I’ve known of you through Miss Duke.  Going home now?”

“Yes,” said Dorian.

“Drive?”

“No; I’m walking.”

“Then you’ll ride with us.  Plenty of room.  Glad to have you.”

“Thank you, I—­”

“Yes, come,” urged Carlia.

Dorian hesitated.  He tried to carry an independent manner, but Mr. Lamont linked his arm sociably with Dorian’s as he said: 

“Of course you’ll ride home with us; but first we’ll have a little ice cream.”

“No thanks,” Dorian managed to say.  What more did this fellow want of him?

However, as Dorian could give no good reason why he should not ride home with them, he found no way of refusing to accompany them to a nearby ice-cream parlor.  Mr. Lamont gave the order, and was very attentive to Carlia and Dorian.  It was he who kept the flow of conversation going.  The other two, plainly, were not adept at this.

“What did you think of the show, Mr. Trent?”

“The moving pictures are wonderful, but I did not like the story very much.”