"What are you going to do?" gasped Polly, her hand on the door-knob, and
glancing back.

"Walk over with you to that center of culture and wisdom," said Jasper
coolly, close beside her now, his hat in his hand.

"O, Jasper!" exclaimed Polly in dismay, her face growing quite pale,
"don't; you'll be late for the concert. Barbara, Barbara!" Polly looked
past him to summon the departing maid.

"Barbara is a good girl, and understands the duty of obedience," said
Jasper laughingly. "There's no help for it, Polly; you must accept my
escort," and he opened the door.

"But Grandpapa! he will be terribly disappointed not to have you go to
the concert with him," cried Polly, getting down the steps with a
dreadful weight at her heart.

"I made it all right with father," said Jasper, "as soon as I heard of
your plan; and Mr. Alstyne is on his way over to take my place; at least
he ought to be in response to my note. Don't worry, Polly; come."

"Oh! what perfectly elegant seats," exclaimed Alexia Rhys, waving her
big ostrich fan contentedly, and sweeping the audience with a long gaze.
"Everybody is here to-night, Pickering."

"That's not so," said Pickering savagely, and bestowing a thump on his
unoffending opera hat, already reduced to the smallest possible bulk.