Mr. Thomas was the only cool one in the party.  He was quietly taking stock of his young companion,—­of her innocence and charm.  She was a pretty girl, little and dainty, but well developed for her age.  Her hair was very black and wavy, and some strain of the South’s chivalric blood, which is so curiously mingled with the African in the veins of most coloured people, had tinged her skin to an olive hue.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” he leaned over and whispered to her.  His voice was very confidential and his lips near her ear, but she did not notice.

“Oh, yes,” she answered, “this is grand.  How I ’d like to be an actress and be up there!”

“Maybe you will some day.”

“Oh, no, I ’m not smart enough.”

“We ’ll see,” he said wisely; “I know a thing or two.”

Between the first and second acts a number of Thomas’s friends strolled up to where he sat and began talking, and again Kitty’s embarrassment took possession of her as they were introduced one by one.  They treated her with a half-courteous familiarity that made her blush.  Her mother was not pleased with the many acquaintances that her daughter was making, and would have interfered had not Mrs. Jones assured her that the men clustered about their host’s seat were some of the “best people in town.”  Joe looked at them hungrily, but the man in front with his sister did not think it necessary to include the brother or the rest of the party in his miscellaneous introductions.

One brief bit of conversation which the mother overheard especially troubled her.

“Not going out for a minute or two?” asked one of the men, as he was turning away from Thomas.

“No, I don’t think I ’ll go out to-night.  You can have my share.”

The fellow gave a horse laugh and replied, “Well, you ’re doing a great piece of work, Miss Hamilton, whenever you can keep old Bill from goin’ out an’ lushin’ between acts.  Say, you got a good thing; push it along.”

The girl’s mother half rose, but she resumed her seat, for the man was going away.  Her mind was not quiet again, however, until the people were all in their seats and the curtain had gone up on the second act.  At first she was surprised at the enthusiasm over just such dancing as she could see any day from the loafers on the street corners down home, and then, like a good, sensible, humble woman, she came around to the idea that it was she who had always been wrong in putting too low a value on really worthy things.  So she laughed and applauded with the rest, all the while trying to quiet something that was tugging at her away down in her heart.

When the performance was over she forced her way to Kitty’s side, where she remained in spite of all Thomas’s palpable efforts to get her away.  Finally he proposed that they all go to supper at one of the coloured cafes.

“You ‘ll see a lot o’ the show people,” he said.