callers--and to receive them. Sadly he went from house to house, finding
that he had been preceded in one after the other. Altogether his
hand for the cotillon was declined eleven times that afternoon on the
legitimate ground of previous engagement. This, with Marjorie, scored
off all except five of the seventeen possible partners; and four of the
five were also sealed away from him, as he learned in chance encounters
with other boys upon the street.

One lady alone remained; he bowed to the inevitable and entered this
lorn damsel's gate at twilight with an air of great discouragement. The
lorn damsel was Miss Rennsdale, aged eight.

We are apt to forget that there are actually times of life when too much
youth is a handicap. Miss Rennsdale was beautiful; she danced like a
premiere; she had every charm but age. On that account alone had she
been allowed so much time to prepare to receive callers that it was only
by the most manful efforts she could keep her lip from trembling.

A decorous maid conducted the long-belated applicant to her where she
sat upon a sofa beside a nursery governess. The decorous maid announced
him composedly as he made his entrance.

"Mr. Penrod Schofield!"

Miss Rennsdale suddenly burst into loud sobs.

"Oh!" she wailed. "I just knew it would be him!"

The decorous maid's composure vanished at once--likewise her decorum.
She clapped her hand over her mouth and fled, uttering sounds. The