sary that any one should. Many of the young men within were, Jay knew, complete strangers to the hosts.
The hostess, having daughters, had bought, from a professional purveyor of such things, a list of eligible and presentable young men. Jay and Ben were both on such a list in Boston; Harvard Yard and Mount Auburn Street mails were heavy with invitations to strange Back Bay ballrooms.
Jay went to the ballroom.
A girl whose looks he liked danced by and Jay tapped her partner. The man yielded. The girl—she was a nice little thing with pretty shoulders and pleasant gray eyes—smiled at him and clasped him for the dance. He was tapped in turn and yielded; but he obtained the same girl later; and later, again. He realized only when he was searching for her, the third time, that she was somewhat like Ellen Powell.
There was a girl a lot like Lida, with bright, black eyes; very lively, full of the devil. He watched her but did not tap her partner.
He discovered plenty of "stick" in the punch.
Beedy awoke him. "It's eleven, sir. Miss Powell has telephoned from the office. She said to remind you of your train."
At the office, Ellen Powell handed him tickets and currency. He did not count the money until the train had started; then he ascertained that his father had given him a thousand dollars.
