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He had met Susie five years before when, as a girl of sixteen, she had come to his senior dance at the invitation of David Stewart. He had thought her a lovely, fairy-like being and had danced with her as many times in the evening as he could. Two years later, when she came out, he had found a snap-shot of her in a newspaper and had cut it out and carried it in his ​pocket-book, so that it was very easy to say, when he met her again, though not strictly true, that he had fallen in love with her at first sight at his senior dance. Anyhow, it was always said between them, and believed—by Susie at least. David, however, could have testified, if he had been disloyally inclined, which he wasn't, that many photographs had preceded the magnificent full length of Susie which now occupied the place of honor on Bevans's desk. He was so subject to enthusiasms that a fair share of them were bound to be feminine.

Mrs. Rolles suddenly decided to be drastic.

"Good-by, Mr. Bevans," she said. "And now that we are really parting, let me give you a bit of advice. Do learn to make an exit. So few young men can. Don't stand about first on one foot and then on the other long after you have made up your mind to go."