ashes, with something in his eyes she had never seen before. It was
Joe who saved the situation. Stepping quickly across towards his
sister-in-law, he offered her his arm, saying, "The next dance is
ours, I think, Christie."

Then Logan pulled himself together, and attempted to carry Mrs.
Stuart off for the waltz, but for once in her life that lady had
lost her head. "It is shocking!" she said, "outrageously shocking!
I wonder if they told Mr. McDonald before he married her!" Then
looking hurriedly round, she too saw the young husband's face--and
knew that they had not.

"Humph! deuced nice kettle of fish--and poor old Charlie has always
thought so much of honorable birth."

Logan thought he spoke in an undertone, but "poor old Charlie" heard
him. He followed his wife and brother across the room. "Joe," he
said, "will you see that a trap is called?" Then to Christie, "Joe
will see that you get home all right." He wheeled on his heel then
and left the ball-room.

Joe _did_ see.

He tucked a poor, shivering, pallid little woman into a cab, and
wound her bare throat up in the scarlet velvet cloak that was
hanging uselessly over her arm. She crouched down beside him,
saying, "I am so cold, Joe; I am so cold," but she did not seem to
know enough to wrap herself up. Joe felt all through this long drive
that nothing this side of Heaven would be so good as to die, and he
was glad when the little voice at his elbow said, "What is he so