as he stood up, brave and defiant, and resentful of the injustice done
him.

'Are you mad, Arthur?' Frank said.

And whether it was the tone of his voice, or the words he uttered,
something produced a wonderful effect upon his brother, whose mood
changed at once, and who advanced toward Harold with outstretched hand,
saying to him:

'Forgive me, my little man. I think I must have been mad for the
instant; there is such a heat in my head, and the crash of that music
almost drives me wild. Shall it be peace between us, my boy?'

It was next to impossible to resist the influence of Arthur Tracy's
smile, and Harold took the offered hand and said, between a sob and a
laugh:

'I don't know now why you wanted to throw me down stairs.'

'Nor I, and I will make it up to you some time,' was Arthur's reply, as
he took his brother's arm and said: 'Now introduce me to your guests.'

The moment the gentlemen disappeared from view Harold's resolution was
taken. He was of no use there any longer, as he could see. It was nearly
midnight. He was very tired and sleepy, and his head was aching
terribly. He could not see the dancing. He had had nothing to eat; he
had stood until his legs were ready to drop off, and to crown all a
lunatic had tried to throw him over the banister.