right of priority, in case the game proved worth the candle, and they were
leaning effectively against the little railing about the musicians'
platform when Mr. Carewe entered the room with his daughter on his arm.

She was in white, touched with countless small lavender flowers; there
were rows and rows of wonderful silk and lace flounces on her skirt, and
her fan hung from a rope of great pearls. Ah, hideous, blue, rough cloth
of the convent, unforgotten, but laid aside forever, what a chrysalis you
were!

Tappingham twitched his companion's sleeve, but the General was already
posing; and neither heard the words of presentation, because Miss Betty
gave each of them a quick look, then smiled upon them as they bowed; the
slayers were prostrated before their prey. Never were lady-killers more
instantaneously tamed and subjugated by the power of the feminine eye.
Will Cummings came in soon, and, almost upon his heels, Eugene Madrillon
and young Frank Chenoweth. No others appeared for half an hour, and the
five gentlemen looked at one another aside, each divining his own
diplomacy in his fellow's eye, and each laboriously explaining to the
others his own mistake in regard to the hour designated upon Mr. Carewe's
cards of invitation. This small embarrassment, however, did not prevent
General Trumble and young Mr. Chenoweth from coming to high words over
Miss Carewe's little, gilt-filigree "programme" of dances.

It may be not untimely to remark, also, of these five redoubtable beaux,
that, during the evening, it occurred to every one of them to be glad that
Crailey Gray was betrothed to Fanchon Bareaud, and that he was down on the
Rouen River with a canoe, a rod and a tent. Nay, without more words, to
declare the truth in regard to Crailey, they felt greater security in his
absence from the field than in his betrothal. As Mr. Chenoweth, a youth