"Don't forget that the Ffolliott's dance is on Friday!" But Chris had by no means forgotten. In his own mind he had fixed on that special evening to ask Gay a most particular question, and now that, as he expressed it, she seemed like going "an awful mucker," with Mackrell's assistance, it was more than ever important that he should ask it, and have the right to protect her from herself--and others. CHAPTER XI GAY DISPOSES The Professor, Gay said, was always late. It was her solemn conviction that he would be late for his own funeral, so she considered herself lucky to get to the Ffolliott's dance at all, but better late than never. Chris and Carlton Mackrell "ran her to earth," as the former expressed it, the moment she entered the ballroom, and with other men clamouring for dances, her programme was soon full. In vain had application been made by both Chris and Carlton days in advance; Gay's rule was firm. "I never give dances away before I get there," she said. "I regard myself as public property on such occasions, and it's a case of 'first come, first served.' It's very unfair to the men who go to dances to find a girl's card full before they have a chance, and I won't do it." So Chris had got those supper dances, reflected Carlton Mackrell presently, but she had been liberal also to himself, and he was leading her away when the Professor suddenly exclaimed: "What time is supper?" "Supper! Why, you've only just got here! What are you thinking about?" exclaimed Gay. "Supper," Frank Lawless answered mildly, with no intention of being funny. "You haven't long had your dinner, you greedy old thing," Gay reminded him as she moved away, "but _do_ put your tie straight!" She never had any trouble in finding the Professor, however big the crowd in which he might be. She had only to look for a tall man standing on one leg in a doorway, with his white tie under his left ear, and there he was. On the rare occasions when he attended a dance, he possessed his soul in patience till supper-time, when he did ample justice to the good things provided, after which he sought a secluded corner, and went to sleep until such time as Gay was ready to depart. "You haven't asked me for a dance yet, Frank," said a voice in well-pretended tones of offence behind him, and his meditations--upon supper--being thus rudely interrupted, he turned to make apologies to Lossie, who in spite of her beauty and elegance was never surrounded in a ballroom like Gay.