“Julie and her mother are in Europe,” he said, with just a suggestion of his Spanish grandfather in his clean-clipped speech.  “Julie left Miss Bence’s School at seventeen, had a coming-out party in our city house the following winter.  Now it seems Europe is the thing.  Mrs. Bocqueraz likes to do things systematically, and she told me, before Julie was out of the nursery, that she thought it was very nice for a girl to marry in her second winter in society, after a European trip.  I have no doubt my daughter will announce her engagement upon her return.”

“To whom?” said Susan, laughing at his precise, re-signed tone.

“That I don’t know,” said Stephen Bocqueraz, with a twinkle in his eye, “nor does Julie, I fancy.  But undoubtedly her mother does!”

“Here is somebody coming over for a dance, I suppose!” he said after a few moments, and Susan was flattered by the little hint of regret in his tone.  But the newcomer was Peter Coleman, and the emotion of meeting him drove every other thought out of her head.  She did not rise, as she gave him her hand; the color flooded her face.

“Susan, you little turkey-buzzard—­” It was the old Peter!—­ “where’ve you been all evening?  The next for me!”

“Mr. Bocqueraz, Mr. Coleman,” Susan said, with composure, “Peter, Mr. Stephen Graham Bocqueraz.”

Even to Peter the name meant something.

“Why, Susan, you little grab-all!” he accused her vivaciously.  “How dare you monopolize a man like Mr. Bocqueraz for the whole supper dance!  I’ll bet some of those women are ready to tear your eyes out!”

“I’ve been doing the monopolizing,” Mr. Bocqueraz said, turning a rather serious look from Peter, to smile with sudden brightness at Susan.  “When I find a young woman at whose christening all the fairies came to dance,” he added, “I always do all the monopolizing I can!  However, if you have a prior claim—­”

“But he hasn’t!” Susan said, smilingly.  “I’m engaged ten deep,” she added pleasantly to Peter.  “Honestly, I haven’t half a dance left!  I stole this.”

“Why, I won’t stand for it,” Peter said, turning red.

“Come, it seems to me Mr. Coleman deserves something!” Stephen Bocqueraz smiled.  And indeed Peter looked bigger and happier and handsomer than ever.

“Not from me,” Susan persisted, quietly pleasant.  Peter stood for a moment or two, not quite ready to laugh, not willing to go away.  Susan busied herself with her salad, stared dreamily across the room.  And presently he departed after exchanging a few commonplaces with Bocqueraz.

“And what’s the significance of all that?” asked the author when they were alone again.

Susan had been wishing to make some sort of definite impression upon Mr. Stephen Graham Bocqueraz; wishing to remain in his mind as separated from the other women he had met to-night.  Suddenly she saw this as her chance, and she took him somewhat into her confidence.  She told him of her old office position, and of her aunt, and of Peter, and that she was now Emily Saunders’ paid companion, and here only as a sort of Cinderella.