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“Let’s go over to that group and try to get acquainted,” she whispered.

“All right,” agreed Lily indifferently.

As they crossed the floor they heard, to their relief, the buzz of conversation begin again, and Marjorie made a valiant effort to get herself in hand. To her chagrin, however, as she approached the group in question, a coarse laugh broke out among the young men.

“Here come the Janes for some dances!” muttered an eighteen-year-old “sport” of the neighborhood, in an audible undertone. “Look out, Aggie, you’re goin’ a lose your little Charlie!”

Instead of admonishing the youth for his rudeness, as Marjorie hoped she would, the young lady only giggled.

“Classmate of your grandmother’s, Charlie!” tittered another boy, breaking into hilarious laughter at his own exquisite wit.

Covered with confusion, Marjorie slipped her arm through Lily’s and staggered to a seat at the side. It was not until the music had started again that she regained courage to look about her.

“Don’t take it so hard, Marj!” pleaded Lily. “They don’t faze me—only fill me with disgust.”