into crisp waves over his head and refused to lie flat.

"What luck!" he exclaimed boyishly. "I must be in the Fates' good
books to-night. What virtuous deed can I have done to deserve it?"

"Playing the part of Good Samaritan might have counted," suggested Nan,
smiling. "Unless you can recall any particularly good action which
you've performed in the interval."

"I don't think I've been guilty of a solitary one," he replied
seriously. "May I?" He offered his arm as the guests began trooping
in to dinner--Penelope appropriately paired off with Fenton, whom she
had come to know fairly well in the course of her professional work.
Although, as she was wont to remark, "Ralph Fenton's a big fish and I'm
only a little one." They were chattering happily together of songs and
singers.

"So France has a partial claim, on you, too?" remarked Mallory,
unfolding his napkin.

"Yes--a great-grandmother. I let her take the burden of all my sins."

"Not a very heavy one, I imagine," he returned, smiling.

"I don't know. Sometimes"--Nan's eyes grew suddenly
pensive--"sometimes I feel that one day I shall do something which will
make the burden too heavy to be shunted on to great-grandmamma! Then
I'll have to bear it myself, I suppose."

"There'll be a pal or two around, to give you a hand with it, I