“It’s only selling embroidery in a fancy-work shop on the boardwalk,” she explained; “but during my spare time I am to embroider, and I get paid extra for my work. I’m really awfully lucky!” “I think they’re lucky!” cried John, with sincere admiration. The girl looked capable. “No, I am, because you see I have never worked before, and I couldn’t give any references.” John was quiet for a moment; he was trying to imagine what her life had been. Evidently she came of a well-to-do family; as Mrs. Hadley had said, she was not an ordinary girl. If she had been, he knew his mother would have made some effort to help her, but she would not have brought her into her own home. “But surely you could give some personal friends as references?” suggested John. “No, I couldn’t!” “Heavens! You sound as if you had been serving a term in prison!” He laughed as he said this; the remark sounded too absurd. But to his amazement, the girl’s eyes filled with tears. “No! No! Not that!” she protested, and John took the warning, realizing that his remark had been tactless. “I say,” said the young man hastily, “let’s celebrate by going to a show tonight! What do you say?” He looked eagerly at Dorothy. “If--if your mother wants to,” said the girl, shyly. “Yes, all right,” said Mrs. Hadley; “but I am tired. John and I had quite a long walk this afternoon. Why don’t you young people go alone?” “No, I won’t go without you, Mrs. Hadley,” replied Dorothy, quietly. “All right then, I’ll go,” consented the older woman. “Where do you want to go?” “Wherever there’s dancing afterward,” said John. “At least, if Miss Snyder cares to dance.” “I love it!” cried Dorothy, with more genuine, youthful animation than she had heretofore expressed over anything. Saturday night is, of course, the biggest night at any of the seashore resorts, and as it was well on to the height of the season, all the walks were so crowded that they could hardly go three abreast; sometimes John would find himself alone, and at other times he would be with one of the women. Unconsciously he pressed Dorothy’s arm whenever they were in the thickest part of the crowd; it seemed as if she were a girl so greatly in need of protection. The evening passed pleasantly, although the girl talked little, and when they began to dance, John felt scarcely better acquainted with her than when he first met her. But as the dancing progressed, her cheeks flushed with the exercise and her eyes became bright and happy; she looked as if she were having a good time. Already John was congratulating himself upon his growing interest in the girl. Suppose Marjorie could see him now! What would she think? The thought was just passing through his mind, when he looked around and caught sight of a familiar face. He looked again--was it possible that he had been right the first time? Yes, for the other had recognized him; a second later Jack Wilkinson nodded pleasantly. “One of your friends?” asked Dorothy.