by swarms of standing couples in front of them—unobserved—unrescued.
Reba couldn't help but feel frequent little stabs of disappointment, now and again, as she sat idly on the side-lines with her feet on the rung of a chair in front of her, and her hands folded in her lap, silently looking on. Couple after couple went laughingly by her. It looked and sounded as if everybody was having a glorious time. The fun on the floor was like a wonderful, rollicking folk-dance to Reba—a folk-dance with young men! There was a grand "right-and-left" every little while, announced by a shrill whistle. Even the girls in the group in front of the platform, of which she would have been one if she hadn't fished the yellow four out from under the radiator, each got a gentleman partner in time. Her shoulders drooped, her expression was wistful.
"I guess I'm spoiling things for you," her partner commented at last, as if she had sighed aloud.
"Oh, no. Really," she said sweetly. Then, "Do you play parcheesi, or dominoes, or anything like that?" she inquired. For it had been explained by Miss Park beforehand that in the parlor adjoining the Assembly-hall tables with games were arranged especially for those who did not care to dance.
It seemed that "Number four" did sometimes try his hand at checkers. So Reba led the way into the almost empty parlor, and sat down before one of the checker-boards. "Number four" sat down opposite her. He was careful, as the game proceeded, to make all his moves with his right hand, and speedily conceal even that, as soon as possible, underneath the
