in her own direction, and Ariel could see, too, that the appeal proved unsuccessful, until at last Mamie approached her, leading Norbert Flitcroft, partly by the hand, partly by will-power.  Norbert was an excessively fat boy, and at the present moment looked as patient as the blind.  But he asked Ariel if she was “engaged for the next dance,” and, Mamie having flitted away, stood disconsolately beside her, waiting for the music to begin.  Ariel was grateful for him.

“I think you must be very good-natured, Mr. Flitcroft,” she said, with an air of raillery.

“No, I’m not,” he replied, plaintively.  “Everybody thinks I am because I’m fat, and they expect me to do things they never dream of asking anybody else to do.  I’d like to see ’em even ask ’Gene Bantry to go and do some of the things they get me to do!  A person isn’t good-natured just because he’s fat,” he concluded, morbidly, “but he might as well be!”

“Oh, I meant good-natured,” she returned, with a sprightly laugh, “because you’re willing to waltz with me.”

“Oh, well,” he returned, sighing, “that’s all right.”

The orchestra flourished into “La Paloma”; he put his arm mournfully about her, and taking her right hand with his left, carried her arm out to a rigid right angle, beginning to pump and balance for time.  They made three false starts and then got away.  Ariel danced badly; she hopped and lost the step, but they persevered, bumping against other couples continually.  Circling breathlessly into the next room, they passed close to a long mirror, in which Ariel saw herself, although in a flash, more bitterly contrasted to the others than in the cheval-glass of the dressing-room.  The clump of roses was flopping about her neck, her crimped hair looked frowzy, and there was something terribly wrong about her dress.  Suddenly she felt her train to be ominously grotesque, as a thing following her in a nightmare.

A moment later she caught her partner making a burlesque face of suffering over her shoulder, and, turning her head quickly, saw for whose benefit he had constructed it.  Eugene Bantry, flying expertly by with Mamie, was bestowing upon Mr. Flitcroft a condescendingly commiserative wink.  The next instant she tripped in her train and fell to the floor at Eugene’s feet, carrying her partner with her.

There was a shout of laughter.  The young hostess stopped Eugene, who would have gone on, and he had no choice but to stoop to Ariel’s assistance.

“It seems to be a habit of mine,” she said, laughing loudly.

She did not appear to see the hand he offered, but got to her feet without help and walked quickly away with Norbert, who proceeded to live up to the character he had given himself.

“Perhaps we had better not try it again,” she laughed.

“Well, I should think not,” he returned, with the frankest gloom.  With the air of conducting her home he took her to the chair against the wall whence he had brought her.  There his responsibility for her seemed to cease.  “Will you excuse me?” he asked, and there was no doubt that he felt that he had been given more than his share that evening, even though he was fat.