dresses. Hers had always been the best at Oakland, but somehow he could not exactly imagine her here beside him. He felt sure that she would be uncomfortable. Instead of entering into the gayety, Hart began to be much depressed.
"I wouldn't know what to say to these people," he thought to himself. "I wonder what they talk about."
Neither he nor the "young man with a purpose" had moved since they had entered the room. Suddenly Bliss caught sight of them and hurried up.
"Look here, can't I introduce you to some of the girls?" he said. "I know four or five good dancers who might give you an extra. There's Sally Redmond over there,—jolly girl. She's all alone. Come on!"
He took Hart by the sleeve and led him across the room. Hart felt like a lumbering deep-sea craft in charge of a pilot. Bliss took his time and avoided impending collisions without having to jump for it, and steered through the dangerous shoals of whirling skirts and projecting elbows, and brought his convoy to anchor at last before a little girl seated near
