Janet, for her part, had received her programme from Dolff, with his own neat little “A. H.” written on a great many lines; but she was too wise to permit the son of the house to make himself and her remarkable. Janet had a great terror of what the opportunities of the evening might lead to, very different from that sentiment which moved Gussy. She managed to escape, if not with some other partner, then alone, anywhere, even going so far as to make a rush upstairs till some of the dances bespoken by Dolff were over. She was determined not to lay herself open to any comments in that respect, or to expose herself to the chances of what Dolff might say in the excitement of the evening. But she had no such terror of Meredith, who, after he had done his duty in various directions was so polite as to ask the governess for a dance. Nor was she alarmed by the eagerness with which he plunged into conversation, leading her away, when half the dance was over, to a quiet corner. “I am sure you are tired,” he said; “you have been dancing all the evening, and so have I. Come and let us talk a little. I never have a chance of half-a-dozen words with you, Miss Summerhayes.” “That cannot matter much,” said Janet, “for I don’t suppose we have anything very particular to say to each other, Mr. Meredith.” “You must, of course, speak for yourself; but you cannot for me, and I have a hundred things I want to say to you. We have never had a good talk but once, and that was the day I walked with you from the circulating library, when you were quite afraid to be seen with me.” “Not in the least afraid to be seen with any one,” said Janet; “but it did not seem suitable somehow. And as we are talking of that, Mr. Meredith, I don’t think it’s very suitable----” Here Janet thought better of what she was going to say, and stopped short. “What does not seem suitable? Tell me, I implore you! How can I regulate my conduct according to your wishes, which is my highest ambition, if you will not tell me what to do?” “I have nothing to do with your conduct, Mr. Meredith, I don’t understand why you should wish to sneer at me----” “I--sneer! but you know you don’t mean that. I sometimes try to secure your sympathy, I allow, when I’m at a particularly hard place. They say that the lookers-on see most of the game, and I soon saw in your eyes, if you’ll forgive me, that you----” “I don’t see any game,” cried Janet, with indignation, “and if you are playing one you ought to be ashamed of yourself; and, at all events, I will not be in your confidence!” “Hush!” he said, “don’t be so fiery. If you get up and leave me you will make everybody ask why, and we don’t want to raise any talk, do we? Look there, Miss Summerhayes--for I must talk of something--look at that man Vicars. What a hang-dog face he has! Like a man that is up to some mischief, don’t you think?” “I don’t like Vicars,” said Janet, hastily; “he would like to be insolent, if he dared.”