"Have you never--don't you ever kiss women?" she asked, looking at him
with slanted eyes.

Lewis shrugged his shoulders.

"Oh, I suppose so. That is--well, to tell you the truth, I don't
remember."

For a second Vi stared at him; then she laughed, and he laughed with
her.

"Oh! oh!" she cried, "I believe you're telling the truth!"

They sat and talked. Nelton brought in tea; then they sat and talked
some more. A distant bell boomed seven o'clock. Vi started, rose slowly
to her feet, and stretched.

"Have you got your invitation for the Ruttle-Marter fancy-dress ball
next week?" she asked, stifling a yawn.

"No," said Lewis; "don't know 'em."

"That doesn't matter," said Vi. "I'll see that you get a card to-morrow.
I'd like you to come. Nobody is supposed to know it, but I'm going to
dance. Will you come?"

"Oh, yes," said Lewis, rising; "I'll come. I've been a bit lonely since
dad went away." Then he smiled. "So I was wrong, after all."