With some interest, Dolly watched the Forbes girl. She danced a few times with the boy with her and the rest of the time she sat alone.
Reggie Stuart came to Dolly for a dance.
“Say, Reg,” she said, “won’t you let me off of this, and go and dance it with Bernice Forbes?”
“Will I! Not! What’s the matter, don’t you want to dance with me?”
“Yes, of course. It isn’t that, but—but she looks lonely.”
“Good work! She ought to look lonely. It’s her own fault, Dolly.”
“Her own fault, how?”
“Oh, she doesn’t try to be gay and perky and smiley and laughy,—like,—well, like you are. But if you don’t want me for a partner—”
“Oh, ridiculous, Reg! Of course I do. Come on.”
They danced away, and for that night at least, Dolly gave up trying to get the boys to dance with Bernice. Reginald was not the first one she had asked, nor the second; but one and all they had refused.