She had experienced a curious, vague stir of emotions about going to the Bonner home that evening; it was the first time she'd ever gone there when Raymond Bonner wasn't present. Raymond was the handsomest and most popular boy in her “crowd,” and she used to be secretly pleased when he openly admired her more than he did the other girls--indeed, there had been certain almost sentimental passages between Raymond and Missy. Of course all that happened before her horizon had “broadened”--before she encountered a truly distinguished person like Ridgeley Holman Dobson. Yet memories can linger to disturb, and Missy was accompanied by memories that moonlit Wednesday evening when, in her “best” dress of pale pink organdie, she carried her note-book to the Bonners' to report the lawn-festival. She had hesitated over the pink organdie; not many of the “crowd” were going, and it was to be for her a professional rather than a social occasion. Perhaps it was sentiment that carried the day. Anyway, she was soon to be glad she'd worn the pink organdie. Before she had a chance to get in any professional work, Mrs. Bonner bore down on her with a tall young man, a stranger. “Oh, Missy! I want you to meet Raymond's cousin, Archie Briggs. Archie, this is one of Raymond's friends, Miss Merriam.” Missy was grateful for that “Miss Merriam.” “Pleased to meet you, Miss Merriam,” said Mr. Briggs. He was dark and not very good-looking--not nearly so good-looking as Raymond--but there was something in his easy, self-assured manner that struck her as very distingue. She was impressed, too, by the negligent way in which he wore his clothes; not nearly so “dressed-up” looking as the Cherryvale boys, yet in some subtle way declassing them. She was pleased that he seemed to be pleased with her; he asked her to “imbibe” some ice-cream with him. They sat at one of the little tables out on the edge of the crowd. From there the coloured paper lanterns, swaying on the porch and strung like fantastic necklaces across the lawn, were visible yet not too near; far enough away to make it all look like an unreal, colourful picture. And, above all, a round orange moon climbing up the sky, covering the scene with light as with golden water, and sending black shadows to crawl behind bushes and trees. It was all very beautiful; and Mr. Briggs, though he didn't speak of the scene at all, made a peculiarly delightful companion for that setting. He was “interesting.”