But H seemed to be having a good time. He danced a lot with Jane, who
is a wreched dancer, with no sense of time whatever. Jane is not pretty,
but she has nice eyes, and I am not afraid, second couzin once removed
or no second couzin once removed, to say she used them.

Altogether, it was a terrible evening. I danced three dances out of four
with knickerbockers, and one with old Mr. Adams, who is fat and rotates
his partner at the corners by swinging her on his waistcoat. Carter did
not dance at all, and every time I tried to speak to him he was taking a
crowd of the little girls to the fruit-punch bowl.

I determined to have things out with H during the Cotillion, and tell
him that I would never marry him, that I would Die first. But I was
favored a great deal, and when we did have a chance the music was making
such a noise that I would have had to shout. Our chairs were next to the
band.

But at last we had a minute, and I went out to the verandah, which was
closed in with awnings. He had to follow, of course, and I turned and
faced him.

"Now" I said, "this has got to stop."

"I don't understand you, Bab."

"You do, perfectly well," I stormed. "I can't stand it. I am going
crazy."

"Oh," he said slowly. "I see. I've been dancing too much with the