"Swoony?" he asked. "Have a glass of something?"
Her eyes had pierced into Albert's consciousness. His jaws dropped. Then, somewhat recovering himself, he steered Ada towards May. "Hullo, cousin," he got out.
"She's a bit swoony," explained Slee, ostentatiously supporting her.
Angry looks were thrown at them by the other dancers. They were jostled. The two men led the girls to a corner. They sat down on four chairs, under draperies of red and white bunting. Slee tilted his chair against the wall, leaning back and gazing at the ceiling to show that there would be no intrusion from him on a family party.
"So this is Albert's cousin, at last," exclaimed Ada, grasping May's small icy hand in her large hot one. "I've been coming to see you I don't know how many evenings but I couldn't get Albert out. He's getting to be a reg'lar old stogie, and, of course, I knowed you'd be busy all day. Say, do y' know Albert never let on to me he had a cousin till you landed here. I tell him it's a shame, the way he's cut himself off from his relations, and it's mean to me, too, because I like to be friendly. My! you don't look a bit like Albert, do you?"
"Shut up, can't you, and give someone else a chance," interrupted Albert. "Feelin' any better now, M'y?"
"Yes. It were just the crowd." Ada leaned across Albert to look into May's face. "You look awful," she said. "Get her a lemonade, Albert? I guess you're not used to much society. I was in the jam factory and we was always gettin' up impromtoo dances."
"I'm better now," said May stiffly. "That's another dance strikin' up. I'd like to dance it with Albert for old time's sake. Let me interduce you to my friend Mr. Slee."
Mr. Slee brought the front legs of his chair to the
