"I don't mind now you've come," she said. "But I was feeling--hurt before. I've seen girls sitting out often--the dull ones, and I've felt, not so much sorry for them, as surprised that they couldn't get partners. Now I know what it feels like." Her eyes flashed with sudden anger. "It's beastly, the selfishness of people," she said with a note of disgust in her tones. "So long as you are amusing, or interesting, or pretty, you are wanted and sought after... you're popular; but lose your looks, or, worse still, your gift of amusing others, and you might as well be buried for all the attention you get... You simply don't exist. The amusing person can always command friends, but the poor dull person who most needs friendship is invariably shunned... Now I'm being bitter and hateful, and, perhaps, even you--But I know you are not like that... It was horrid of me to have said that. I'm often horrid now, Teddy. I get more horrid every day." "Look here," he returned quickly, "I'm not dancing with anyone--most of the girls have filled their cards by now. Every dance that you have open we'll have, or sit out, together, and those that you're fixed up for I'll dance with anyone I can discover who is sitting out. We'll square matters that way." "Oh, Teddy! you are a good sort," she said. She watched him while he marked his programme, comparing it with hers. He had reddened slightly at her words of approbation, but by the time he had finished pencilling his programme his embarrassment had vanished, and he returned her card with his usual cheerful smile. "I've stolen all the blanks," he said. "You don't mind--if it's remarked?" "No... I don't care," she answered stubbornly. He rose and offered her his arm. "We won't sit here inhaling the dust they're kicking up," he said. "There are one or two jolly little retreats, Julie, where we can talk at our ease." She laughed. "You always had a genius for discovery," she returned. As she took the proffered arm she gave it a little grateful squeeze. "Oh! I'm so glad to get out of this room." Outside the ball-room they came face to face with Mrs Lawless and Van Bleit. There was a block at the entrance. Many couples were leaving the room, and new-comers pressed forward, and for several minutes people were forcibly restrained in the narrow passage. Mrs Lawless looked searchingly into the young face, as she recognised the girl who had been Lawless' partner in the dance when they had been held up by the crowd as they were now. It was obvious that the girl also recognised her. The older woman smiled. "It seems fated that we should meet in a crush," she said in her peculiarly soothing voice. "On the last occasion we both were slightly damaged. May we have better luck this time."