think of me, and I----"

"I think you are wonderful," he said. "Words fail me when I try to tell
you what I am thinking. You've saved the Cotillion for me, haven't you?
If not, I'm going to claim it anyhow. IT IS MY RIGHT."

He said it in the most determined manner, as if everything was settled.
I felt like a rat in a trap, and Carter, watching from a corner, looked
exactly like a cat. If he had taken his hand in its white glove and
washed his face with it, I would hardly have been surprized.

The music stopped, and somebody claimed me for the next. Jane came up,
too, and cluched my arm.

"You lucky thing!" she said. "He's perfectly handsome. And oh, Bab, he's
wild about you. I can see it in his eyes."

"Don't pinch, Jane," I said coldly. "And don't rave. He's an idiot."

She looked at me with her mouth open.

"Well, if you don't want him, pass him on to me," she said, and walked
away.

It was too silly, after everything that had happened, to dance the next
dance with Willie Graham, who is still in knickerbockers, and a full
head shorter than I am. But that's the way with a Party for the school
crowd, as I've said before. They ask all ages, from perambulaters up,
and of course the little boys all want to dance with the older girls. It
is deadly stupid.