When she saw Frank standing there alone in the room, so handsome and smiling, in his black evening-dress, with a rose in his button-hole, her blue eyes flashed with returning fire. She ran up and laid her slim, ringless white hand impetuously on his arm, demanding, breathlessly: “Frank Hinton, have you gone crazy like the rest, or can you listen to what I’ve come to say?” He saw at once that something had gone wrong, but he answered, lightly: “Say on, Sweetheart.” “It is only this,” said Thea. “I release you from your promise to take me to the dance. You can go with Maude Fitz.” “Up--on--my--word!” ejaculated the astonished young man. “I--I--was only joking, Frank, when I asked you to go with me,” pursued Thea. “You--you--didn’t think I was in earnest, did you, Frank?” eagerly. “Of course I thought so. You were, too. You don’t think you can throw me over at this late hour, do you?” Frank laughed, and clasped his hand over the slim one on his arm with quite an air of possession. Thea flushed slightly. She made a feint of drawing the hand away. “I’m not going with you. I--I--didn’t mean to go at first. It was only fun. You know Maude wouldn’t like it. She mightn’t think I was just like a sister to you, Frank.” Frank Hinton flushed and held tight to her hand. “What are you driving at, my dear?” he asked, a little roughly. “Of course Maude won’t think you’re like my sister. She knows better. What has she got to do with you and me, anyhow?” “You’re as good as engaged to her, aren’t you, Frank?” a little wistfully. “Good heavens, no! I never thought of such a thing.” “But Emmie says you are. And so maybe Maude might get jealous of me; that’s all, Frank, only I’m in earnest; you can’t take me to the dance,” nodding her bright head decidedly, and trying in earnest now to pull away the hand he held so tightly. But Frank tried to draw her closer to him, while he said, indignantly: “I wish Emmie’d mind her own business, and look after Charley McVey instead of me. I think he needs watching. I’m not engaged to Maude Fitz, and never will be engaged to anybody unless it’s you, Little Sweetheart.” “Quit your joking; I don’t admire it,” Thea answered, a little shortly; “and let go my hand, Frank Hinton. It don’t belong to you.” “But mayn’t I have it, darling--say, mayn’t I have it?” whispered the young man, eagerly, his eyes gleaming with sudden passion, his voice vibrant with emotion that made her draw back further with a sort of dawning terror, and exclaim in a scared voice: “Let me go at once, I tell you. I’m not in the mood for fun. I can’t bear it.” Her face was deathly white, her blue eyes flashing, but he would not let her go. “This is no fun, but earnest,” he said, with sudden gravity. “Listen, darling--I love you. Of course you know that already, but will you love me in return--will you promise to be Frank’s little wife?” The honest, manly tone left no room for doubt. Thea stared at him in angry disgust.