Lucy, would you like to be my date for the silly little dance they call the Junior Prom?\" There was a pregnant pause as she digested the information. This obstacle being removed, in his eagerness to proceed, he had forgotten to take his little charge with him. She shuddered, adding confidentially, ‘You wouldn’t get me in there now, mind. The expression, however, which would chiefly have interested a beholder, was that of settled and profound melancholy. ‘How could you? No wonder mademoiselle is angry with you. ” “How?” “Well—a little clumsily. “Bring any new songs you may have. The chair was torture.
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