She turned back for another glance. He was standing, cap in hand, with the air of a conqueror. "What's the verdict on Jo?" asked Kingdon. "Jo's inimitable," she replied lightly. "Wait until you dance with him," he said. "Jo dances his way into every girl's heart." "I can believe that." "He's one of those sunny-hearted fellows that people take to be shallow, but under the surface brightness there's a tolerably deep current. And he never nurses a grudge. If anyone should stick a knife in Jo, he'd only make a question mark of his eyebrow and give a wondering smile." "What I can't understand," said Pen, "is why the children don't like him." "He plagues us all the time," complained Betty. "It's very odd, though," commented Kingdon, meditatively, and with a twinkle in his eye, "how you do like to be plagued. You are always tagging at his heels. I think you must be coquetting with Jo." "He's so different with them from Kurt," said Mrs. Kingdon. "Kurt is so patient and so sweet with children. He understands them." "Kurt," said Pen, "seems to be like some things that are too good for everyday use. He should be laid away on a shelf for Sundays." Then, meeting Mrs. Kingdon's wondering eyes, she added with a little flush: "That isn't true--and it's unkind! I don't really mean it." "We are all ready for our sewing bee," observed Mrs. Kingdon, smiling. "What shall we begin on?" "I'm wondering," said Pen meditatively, "if I hadn't better rig up something evening-like for the dance to-night. If you could let me borrow a white muslin curtain, I could easily rig it up into an impromptu dance frock." "Jo said he knew a man who turned an automobile into a lamp post," said Betty. "Oh, Betty!" laughed Pen, "maybe there is hope for a sinner to be turned into a saint." "We won't have to resort to curtains," said Mrs. Kingdon. "I have a white satin skirt that is too short for me, and you can fashion a waist from a piece of white muslin." "And Doris left her white slippers that were too short for her," reminded Betty. "To think," meditated Pen presently as she deftly cut out a waist, "that the thief should be making evening clothes, when it was only but yesterday she was booked for bars instead of balls." CHAPTER V The two fiddlers were tuning their instruments when the party from the house entered the rosy-lighted mess-hall. Jo started forward with an air of assurance to claim Pen. When he beheld her, he stopped abruptly, lost in admiration of the daintily clad young person whose Castle-cut locks had been lured to a coiffure from which little tendrils escaped in babyish rings. Jakey Fourr, second violin, glimpsed her at the same time and noticed Jo's hesitating halt. "Ladies' Choice!" he shouted with a grin.