The Lady Head was the first to recover her composure, and she rustled across the room with outstretched hands. "My dear Caroline," she said. "We were just speaking of you--and your charming little club," she added, with a side glance at her assistant. The girl threw back her dark furs with a smile. "How good of you," she said gratefully. "I'm frightfully late to-day, but to-night is our party, and I stopped down town for the boys." The Lady Head patted the girl's plump fingers. "Are you going to dance, too?" she inquired. The girl laughed. "Indeed I am. But I really don't know how I'm going to manage it. The boys are all so jealous, and Tony--oh, Tony is the grandest dancer!" She flitted out of the tiny office, and the two women watched her as she climbed the broad stairs followed closely by her chattering, gesticulating pupils. As the last peal of laughter floated down over the balusters the little kindergartner turned to the Lady Head. "You see?" she said simply. The Lady Head turned upon her a sweet, uncomprehending smile. "I think it is lovely!" she breathed. The night lamp burned steadily in the office of the settlement. The wind howled through the deserted street, flinging the rain in noisy gusts against the window panes and shrieking dismally down the empty corridors. From somewhere on the floor above came the rhythmic banging of a piano and the shuffle and stamp of dancing feet. The Lady Head closed her book with a yawn. "What a stupid evening," she sighed. The kindergarten teacher laid down her sewing and walked slowly to the window. "The elements are attempting to enliven things," she remarked dryly as she lifted the heavy curtains. Even as she spoke there was a blinding flash, a click and the house was dark. Up stairs the music ceased, there was a confused murmur of voices--a shout--a crash--and a woman's scream. The lights come on again--the two women turned, their faces ashen, and hastened up the long stairs. A pale-faced girl was crouched against the farther wall of the big gymnasium. At her feet sprawled the limp body of a man, and behind her a swarthy black-browed girl was struggling in the grasp of two stalwart Italians who were trying to wrest something from her frantic fingers. Her hands relaxed as the two women appeared in the door, and a shining bit of steel flew across the room and tinkled on the floor at the feet of the Lady Head. She picked it up grimly and pushed her way to the center of the crowd. The girl by the wall sprang to her feet with a wild shriek, but the woman turned on her savagely. "Hush!" she hissed, "you little fool!" Then to the crowd, "What does this mean?" she demanded sternly. "What does this mean?" A young Italian, who stood at one side nursing his slashed knuckles, was the spokesman. "Him--" with a wave towards the man on the floor--"he's Tony De Sil', and her"--the gesture included the hysterical girl--"She dance with Ton' all-a-time."