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“I’m sure we will,” murmured Marjorie graciously deciding, however, that Mrs. Morgan was as near-sighted mentally as her glasses proved her to be physically.

“Come into the office and take off your things,” she urged. “Then you can go back and dance a bit yourselves.”

“Oh, we really don’t care to dance,” answered Lily, a trifle scornfully. “We’re here to observe. But it will be nice to get our things off. It’s rather warm in there.”

Marjorie hoped that Mrs. Morgan would return to the hall with them and introduce them to the girls; such a formality would have rendered the situation less awkward. But she conducted them only as far as the doorway, excusing herself on the plea of duties in the kitchen.

As Marjorie and Lily re-entered the room, they felt every eye turned piercingly towards them. The first intermission was on, and the hall seemed strangely quiet after so much noise. The couples arranged singly, or in groups of twos and threes about the walls, abruptly stopped talking, and blandly stared at the newcomers. Marjorie felt as if she had never been so embarrassed in all her life. In her confusion she turned to Lily.