prestidigitator was gone. With a smothered laugh, Carlie dashed
through the groups of boys in the dressing-room and made his way
downstairs, his manner reverting to its usual polite gravity
before he entered the drawing-room, where his hostess waited.
Music sounding at about this time, he was followed by the other
boys, who came trooping down, leaving the dressing-room empty.

Penrod, among the tail-enders of the procession, made his
dancing-school bow to Miss Rennsdale and her grown-up
supporters (two maiden aunts and a governess) then he looked
about for Marjorie, discovering her but too easily. Her amber
curls were swaying gently in time to the music; she looked never
more beautiful, and her partner was Master Chitten!

A pang of great penetrative power and equal unexpectedness found
the most vulnerable spot beneath the simple black of Penrod
Schofield's jacket. Straightway he turned his back upon the
crash-covered floors where the dancers were, and moved gloomily
toward the hall. But one of the maiden aunts Rennsdale waylaid
him.

"It's Penrod Schofield, isn't it?" she asked. "Or Sammy Williams?
I'm not sure which. Is it Penrod?"

"Ma'am?" he said. "Yes'm."

"Well, Penrod, I can find a partner for you. There are several
dear little girls over here, if you'll come with me."

"Well--" He paused, shifted from one foot to the other, and