"Ails her! What do you mean? Is she sick?"
"No, I don't think so; but she looks as if she'd got the weight of the whole outfit on her shoulders, and she seems to be going 'round asking everybody if they knew John somebody, or Lizzie somebody else."
Genevieve laughed merrily; but almost at once she frowned and shook her head.
"No, I don't know, Father, what is the matter. But Cordelia is capable of—anything, if once her conscience is stirred. Why don't you ask her yourself?"
"I believe I will, dearie," he asserted at last.
Five minutes later he chanced to find Cordelia without a partner.
"Miss Cordelia, will you accept an old man for this dance?" he asked genially. "And shall we sit it out, perhaps?"
"Oh, thank you! I'd love to," cried Cordelia in a relieved voice. "And I shall be so glad to rest!"
"Tired—dancing?" he asked.
"Oh, no, not dancing; that is—well—" She stopped, and colored painfully.