He left her at her door and went back to find Fliss. The ballroom was very hot by this time. On the faces of the men perspiration or pallor showed that even they were beginning to feel the strain of five hours’ dancing. The circles under the eyes of the women showed the weariness which their rouge could not hide. But, tired though they might be physically, relaxation seemed the last thing in any one’s mind. The music was gayer, encores more frequent, the laughter was keyed higher, the abandon of dancing greater than before. The men were cutting in on the dances of other men, women slipping from the arms of one man to those of another. Indefatigable. Fliss was wonderfully vivid. She never became disarranged when she danced. The bit of color that was his wife caught Matthew’s eye and held it. She waved at him, nodding to him to come in and claim her. But he shook his head. He wanted to see Dick first. Dick was talking to Gerald by the wall. They were quite uproarious over something. Matthew joined them. “Cecily get home?” asked Dick. “Already?” “We went for a ride around the boulevards first; she seemed pretty tired.” “She is tired,” said Dick. “It’s too bad. With the babies and the maids and Christmas.” “It’s making her cross,” said Gerald. “She called me down to-night. Didn’t like the way I was dancing.” “Cecily really doesn’t care for going out much. She doesn’t like all the jazz stuff.” Dick’s smile was one of tolerance as he said it. “Well, I wouldn’t let Cecily get to be a prig.” Gerald was, in intention, very worldly and broadminded. “Oh, she’s not that,” said Dick. “Not at all that!” Matthew interrupted. “Cecily is vastly superior to all this rabble and their doings. Do you really like this stuff yourself, Dick?” “It’s sort of fun, but I’m off it for to-night. That’s sure. No, I’m going to have one more foxtrot with Fliss. She’s showing me how to get in an extra step.” He stole Fliss from her partner. Matthew was alone again. * * * * * “Have a good time, Fliss?” asked her husband, unlocking their front door. “Lots of fun,” said Fliss. He looked at her crossly. “What in hell is fun, anyway?” “Poor Matthew. You’ll never know. It’s a gift. You’re born with it, or you never get it.” CHAPTER XV Dick, a little under-slept, a trifle red about the eyes, was shaving. He knew he was late for breakfast and that that would bother Cecily. He knew the mechanism of his house ought not to be disturbed when the comfort and routine of the children depended on it. He did not feel quite fit for work and the hang-over of dance tunes persisted in his head. Moreover it was the first time that he and Cecily had not come home together from a party and while the arrangement was perfectly amicable at the time it was made with Matthew, it did seem a trifle irregular this morning. Dick hurried and it made him cross.