But all the time the girl seems languid; and Ollie, dancing with her, notices that the lightness has left her step, and she seems to dream; which, indeed, she does, thinking of a ball during the season in New York, to which her father on his last visit had taken her, and remembering how the old beau, _bon-vivant_ and club man had enjoyed meeting his former friends, companions and chums of other days, also the belles of the last decade of Manhattan society, whom he had greeted again as matrons and dowagers, and she murmurs to herself: "How happy I would be if papa were by me _now_ as he was _then_." But at this moment Mr. Livingston starts, and wonders what change has come into Erma Travenion, for suddenly new life and vigor seem to enter the lithe waist his arm encircles; her cheek, before a little pale, becomes blushing as he gazes on it; and her eyes, which were downcast, grow bright and radiant, and her step, which was languid, becomes light as a sylph's. Then he follows Erma's eyes, and sees the stalwart form of Harry Lawrence standing in the door, and looking just about the same as when he first entered Mrs. Livingston's supper party at Delmonico's; and Ollie says to himself, a second time in his life, the awful word, "Damn!" A moment after the music ceases, and Captain Lawrence is by the girl's side, and their hands clasp; their eyes have already greeted. "I have driven seventy-five miles to-day," he says eagerly. "Am I in time to have a dance with you?" "Seventy-five miles," replies Erma. "Then you must be very tired." "Not tired till I have a dance with you. Can I look at your programme?" "Certainly," and she hands it to him. But glancing at it, the young man remarks gloomily: "There is no vacant spot." "No vacant spot but plenty of _crosses_. Take up your cross and follow me!" laughs Miss Travenion. Then she explains, "I always reserve a few dances by crosses for friends who come late," and something gets into her eyes which makes Lawrence very ardent and very bold. So bold that, being borne away to another dance by Ferdie, Erma looks at her card and suddenly whispers, "Why, he has taken up _all_ my crosses," but though implored by a number of gentlemen who come up afterwards to erase some one of the many H. L.'s marked upon her programme, she shakes her head resolutely and says, "No, I stick to my written contracts," much to the disgust of Ellison of the Thirteenth Infantry, and Lamar, the dashing lieutenant, and Jackson of the Bully Boy. So, a few moments after, Lawrence coming up for his first dance, she takes his arm more happily than she has ever done, to tread a measure; though she has been the belle of many Delmonico balls and has floated about on the arms of the best cotillion leaders of New York and Boston.