He threw himself into the dance with the greatest heartiness.  The music was played rather slowly, to give Aunt Ruth time to get about, and the result was almost the stately effect of a minuet.  Never had he put more grace and finish into his steps, and when he bowed to Aunt Ruth it was as a courtier drops knee before a queen.  His unfamiliarity with the figures gave him excuse to keep his eyes upon Roberta, and she found him a pupil to whom she had only to nod or make the slightest gesture of the hand to show his part.

“Did you ever see anything so fascinating as Aunt Ruth and Mr. Kendrick?” asked Mrs. Stephen in her husband’s ear as they stood looking on.

“There’s certainly no criticism of his manner toward her,” Stephen replied.  “I’ll say for him that he’s a pastmaster at adaptation.  I’ll wager he’s enjoying himself, too.  It’s a new experience for the society youth.”

“Stevie, why do you all insist on making a ‘society youth’ of him?  It’s his misfortune to have been born to that sort of thing, but I don’t believe he cares half as much for it as he does for—­just this sort.”

“This is a novelty to him, that’s all.  And he’s clever enough to see that to please Rob he must be polite to her family.  Rob is the stake he’s playing for—­till some other pretty girl takes his fancy.”

Rosamond shook her head.  “You all do him injustice, I believe.  Of course he admires Rob; men always do if they’ve any discrimination whatever.  But—­there are other things that appeal to him.  Stephen”—­her appealing face flushed with interest—­“when you have a chance, slip out with Mr. Kendrick and take him upstairs to see Gordon and Dorothy asleep.  I just went up; they look too dear!”

“Why, Rosy, you don’t imagine he’d care—­”

“Try him—­just to please me.  I could take him myself, but I’d rather you would.  I want you to look at his face when he looks at them.”

“He has got round you—­” began her husband, but she made him promise.

When Stephen came upon Richard the guest was with Uncle Rufus and Aunt Ruth.  The young man was entering with great spirit into his conversation with the pair, and they were evidently enjoying him.

“I’ll have to give him credit for possessing genuine courtesy,” thought Stephen.

At this moment a group of young people came up and demanded the presence of Mr. and Mrs. Rufus Gray in another part of the room, and Richard was set at liberty.  Stephen took him by the arm.

“Before you engage again in the antic whirl I have a special exhibit to show you outside the ballroom.  Spare me five minutes?”

“Spare you anything,” responded the guest, following Stephen out of the room as if he wanted nothing so much as to do whatever might be suggested to him.

In two minutes they were downstairs and at the far end of a long corridor which led to the rooms in a wing of the big house occupied by the Stephen Grays.  Richard was led through a pleasant living-room where a maid was reading a book under the drop-light.  She rose at their appearance and Stephen nodded an “All right” to her.  He conducted Richard to the door of an inner room, which, as he opened it, let a rush of cold air upon the two men entering.