Then it came out about the dance that Derwent and his daughter
were to give the following night.

"Frank and me have been arranging the cotillon," said Cassie, and
then she turned pink to her ears at having called him by his first
name before all those people. "I mean Mr. Rignold," she added,
amid everyone's laughter and her own desperate confusion.
Florence's laughter rang out as gaily as anyone's, and apparently
as unaffectedly, and she rallied Cassie with much good humour on
her slip.

"So it's Frank already!" she exclaimed. "Oh, Miss Derwent! don't
you trust this wicked chief of mine. He is a regular heart-
breaker!"

Cassie cried when Frank and she returned home and sat together on
the porch.

"She's a proud, haughty minx," she burst out, "and you love her--
and as for me I might as well drown myself."

Frank attempted to comfort her.

"Oh, you needn't try to blind me," she said bitterly. "I--I
thought it was a girl in America, Frank, a girl like me--just
common and poor and perhaps not as nice as I am. And you know she
wouldn't wipe her feet on you," she went on viciously--"she so
grand with her yachts and her counts and 'Oh, I think I'll run
over to Injya for the winter, or maybe it's Cairo or the Nile,'
says she! What kind of a chance have you got there, Frank, you in