“Do you remember a certain girl, Miss Dayton,” he asked, “who on a memorable class day gave the pleasure of her company to a diffident student who in ecstasy at playing escort to the lovely girl and her dignified Aunt Marcia, nearly forgot all which he ever knew, managing only to stammer through an effort at conversation which must have completely bored her?”

“Pardon me, the girl could not truly have been bored,” Miss Dayton replied, “else it would not be true that to-night she remembers every event of that delightful day with a pleasure which she has never found words to describe.”

“Is that really true?” he asked, but other voices making a merry din allowed the answer to be heard only by the one for whom it was intended, and soon Helen was leading the conversation into channels in which all might take part, causing the gifted ones to show their sparkling wit, and coaxing the shy guests to talk, who would otherwise have been silent.

Miss Dayton possessed in a wonderful degree, the ability to help each person present to appear at his best, with the result that all were made happy and glad to proclaim that no home boasted as sweet a young hostess as Helen Dayton, or as grand a mistress as gracious Aunt Marcia, who dearly loved young people, and who was never happier than when in their company.

Peggy Atherton, aware that she was becomingly attired in her blue silk and forget-me-nots, was doing her best to coax a diffident youth to join in the conversation, and at the same time naughtily enjoying his blushing answers to her bright speeches.

Randy saw Peggy’s roguish eyes, and wondered what it might be which so amused her, when a pause in the general conversation allowed the following to be heard,—­

“Were you at the last symphony?” Peggy asked sweetly.

“Yes,—­no,—­that is I think I was, but I can’t quite remember,” was the halting answer.

“Oh, you would remember if you were really there,” persisted Peggy, “because the program was extra fine and the solos were something to dream of.”

“Yes, yes the music was er,—­very er,—­musical, and the soloist, that is, the one who sang a solo, was er,—­the only one who er—­sang alone, I believe.”

Randy stifled a wild desire to laugh, for she saw plainly that Peggy was teasing the youth, who in his extreme diffidence, was appearing as if he were a simpleton, which was indeed far from the truth.

Peggy well knew that he was a bright young student, and she secretly admired his intellect, but she was an inveterate tease, and it amused her to see him blush, and to hear his faltering answers.

She did not mean to hurt him; only a thoughtless mirth tempted her to torment him; but to Randy, Peggy’s conduct seemed very cruel, and she determined to save the luckless youth from further discomfort.  Turning to Jotham, expecting as usual to find in him an ally, Randy said,