"Good heavens! Aunt Chrysophrasia!" exclaimed Alexander, in some horror.
"Why 'good heavens'?" inquired Hermione. "Have you been doing anything foolish? I am sure you have been making love to her. Tell me about it."
"There is nothing to tell. But what a wonderful disguise! How many dances will you give me? May I have the cotillon?"
"You may have a quadrille," answered Hermione.
"A quadrille, two waltzes, and the cotillon. That will do very well. As nobody knows you in that domino, we can dance as often as we please, and you will only be seen with me in the cotillon. What is your costume? I am sure it is something wonderful."
"How you run on!" exclaimed the young girl. "You do not give one the time to refuse one thing before you take another!"
"That is the best way, and you know it," answered Alexander, laughing. "A man should never give a woman time to refuse. It is the greatest mistake that can be imagined."
"Did aunt Chrysophrasia refuse to dance with you?" inquired Hermione.
Alexander bit his lip, and a faint color rose in his transparent skin.
"Aunt Chrysophrasia is a hard-hearted old person," he replied, evasively; but he almost shuddered at the thought that under the white domino there had lurked the green eyes and the faded, sour face of his æsthetic relative.