"Quite right. Dear me!"--the man sighed. "It seems only the other day she was running about in pinafores! I can't think of her as grown-up." The tender look came into his face that only his daughter could evoke. Mrs. Cadell saw it and smiled, as he added in his pompous manner: "If it's a question of money, my dear, you needn't spare it. Order the best. I'll settle the bills." "Thank you. There'll be a good deal to arrange ... But since you approve I'll take it in hand." The old man lingered at the door. "Who are you going to invite?" he asked--"You're not counting on me for men?" "Oh, no!"--She spoke hurriedly, with a faint note of satire he knew full well--"But I'm counting on you for good champagne." "H'm ... I see. But I always thought it didn't matter much at a dance--more quantity than quality." "A popular mistake," said Helen, "or rather most _un_popular! It's like this"--she explained--"we don't know many dancing-men--at least not of the kind I want! But it's quite easy nowadays. You ask people to make up parties. Only they're not _your_ guests, you see, but friends of the people who dine and bring them; and they feel they can grumble openly at any flaw in the entertainment. So I want the arrangements and the wine--(it's more important than the food) to be quite--well, above suspicion. _Then_, you see," she smiled enigmatically, "the men will come again--by themselves." Ebenezer's face grew red. "I'd like to see them grumble here! Dash it all!--we make no charge--it's _my_ hospitality." He bristled visibly at the thought. "That counts for nothing nowadays." Helen's voice was quite composed. "They come to enjoy themselves--for what they can get out of it! The only people who can give small parties and consider themselves the attraction are artists or Royalty. They can _afford_ simplicity." "H'm!--A pretty state of affairs. And what about Cydonia? You'd think any man would be proud to dance with my lovely girl." "Ah! you're her father." Helen laughed. "I don't say, mind, that I approve of the present-day attitude. But the fact remains that the modern youth considers that his presence at a party confers a favour ... and, in return, he demands a first-class entertainment." She met his eyes, smiled again, and turned to her desk with an air of dismissal. "What about presenting the child? I'd like that done, you know, Helen. It don't mean much to my mind to bob down before Royalty, but I gather it's a sort of hall-mark." He gave a gruff, contented laugh. "That will come later," said Mrs. Cadell. "I was talking to Lady Leason about it, and she knows of a certain friend of hers who arranges these little matters. For a consideration, of course." "I didn't know you had to pay?" Ebenezer was interested. Secretly he admired his wife's steady assault on Society.