"Take me right back to our box," she commanded, "and go and make your peace with Miss Carmichael! Don't you know you can't afford to antagonize such a power at court?" He obeyed meekly. With quite a proprietary interest, she watched his awkward entry into the enemy's country, his introduction to Carmichael _père_ and Carmichael _mère_, a lady who looked on life (the Darcys included) through a rather invidious lorgnon. This lorgnon trained itself on Archibald at close range. "Poor Mr. Blair!" thought Joan. But a little while later she was surprised to see that her protégé and Mrs. Carmichael had joined the ranks of the strollers and were chatting and laughing together with quite an air of old friendship. He looked up at her as they passed, shyly, and Joan clapped her hands softly to indicate approval. The last ring of horses was showing when he finally returned. "Well," Joan rallied him. "I thought you'd gone over to the enemy for good!" "Judge Carmichael and I were talking over old times when I used to sell him papers," explained Archibald. "I reminded him of a day when he treated me to a pair of shoes because he said my toes sticking out made him feel chilly.... But are they your enemies?" Joan bit her lip. She did not like her self-consciousness about the Carmichaels. "Really, I don't know," she said indifferently. "They certainly are not my friends." "I think they'd like to be, though!" remarked the unexpected Archie. "Miss Carmichael said you were the only one of the débutantes who looked worth while, and she asked a lot of questions about you and your father, and said she would have been to see you long ago, except for--" He stopped abruptly. He had almost finished the quotation _verbatim_. Joan flushed. "I trust you were able to give her a good account of us!" she remarked haughtily. Archie answered in all innocence. "I told her Mrs. Darcy was your step-mother." Despite her annoyance, Joan had to laugh at that. After all it was too absurd, this protégé of hers, this discovery out of the slums, standing sponsor for the Darcy family with the Carmichaels!... It did not occur to her to invite him to call. She had not as yet plumbed the depths of his social ignorance. He stood down-cast throughout the leave-takings, the remarks of "See you to-morrow," and "One o'clock lunch, did you say?" realizing that this wonderful evening was over, and not daring to hope that such luck would come his way a third time. He looked rather like a big, humble puppy that is about to be shut out of the house at night. It was Effie May who noticed the resemblance. "Be sure you pay your two party-calls promptly, Mr. Blair," was her parting suggestion. "And if you happen to be at the Horse Show any other night this week, drop in at our box, you know." "Yes 'm! yes 'm, I certainly will," he replied to both these hints--stiffly, because it was the only way he could manage to speak to this lady. But his ears were quite pink with pleasure. CHAPTER XXI