Past Boadicea, reclining against a marble heater and conversing with Mephistopheles; past Joan of Arc, flirting vigorously with Torquemeda; past the Queen of the Fairies, chatting to a miscellaneous group of knights and demons; past every variety of hero and lady fair went the self-sacrificing Agatha, intent on her altruistic aim. "For," as she muttered to herself, "if he has proposed to her, already, it isn't very likely that he will change for a little while, anyway, and I want to be married before any of the other girls. Besides it wouldn't be half so nice to marry a man who had been refused by your own cousin; though every one would think you had cut her out and Lynn is so funny that she would probably just giggle and say nothing, so it wouldn't matter much. But, as matters stand, I think it would be really wicked to let Lynn actually refuse him, particularly when I can get so many others: and, once they are married, she will be grateful to me as well as he and they will have a nice home and entertain a lot and I can be their bridesmaid and everyone will say how much prettier I am than the bride and"—At this moment she caught sight of her quarry.
Lynn had been dancing and had just come out to the hall in search of a vacant chair or stair when she saw a vision of pink tulle gazing at her with such an unusual amount of feeling and expressiveness that, with a hasty excuse, she dropped her partner's arm and hurried to her small cousin's side.
"Agatha," she exclaimed, wonderingly. "What is it? Is anything the matter? Do you want me?"
"Indeed I do," responded Agatha, solemnly.
"Then just let me speak to Mr. Barnes a moment and explain why I am going: then we can run upstairs to Del's little sitting-room and talk quietly."
This programme was carried out; and, when they were safely ensconced behind closed doors, Lynn turned eagerly to her cousin.
"Now, Agatha!" she said.
Agatha turned and looked at her.
"Lynn," she said with portentous solemnity, "I don't know what you will think of me and I don't care. Some one has got to talk to you."
Lynn stared in amazement, wondering if her thrice-engaged cousin objected to her dancing twice with the same man: she could think of no other enormity of which she had been guilty that evening.