"Miss Priscilla," said Horace suddenly, "are you at all interested in Field Day?"
"It's not so bad when one knows the men," Priscilla replied, and the answer showed the effect of Horace's influence in a little over half an hour. For Priscilla adored Field Day. When she watched the various events her heart pounded as if she herself were taking part in the hundred yard dash. At the close of an exciting race, she had often found herself on her feet, shrieking spasmodically, and waving her handkerchief, and feeling the smart of tears in her strained eyes. But instinctively Priscilla knew that Horace would not consider Field Day a legitimate cause for excitement, and so she answered as she did.
"Sometimes I find it a deuce of a bore," Horace said. "The crowd and the noise, don't you know. But if you are willing to accompany me next Friday, Miss Priscilla, I'm sure this Field Day will prove a delightful exception."
"Oh, thank you," Priscilla said carelessly. "I should enjoy going very much." Her nonchalant acceptance of the invitation gave no idea of her tumultuous excitement. She was no longer the odd one of the quartette of chums. She was no longer left out. Her misgivings regarding herself were instantaneously set at rest, for she knew that, had she been as unattractive as she had feared, Horace Hitchcock would never have invited her to accompany him on such an occasion. Her pulses throbbed, and there was a humming in her ears as she chattered on without any clear idea of what she was saying.
Priscilla's feeling of elation had nothing to do with Horace's personality. Had he been any other young man, equally well dressed and well mannered, she would have felt exactly the same. Yet under the circumstances she experienced a not unreasonable sense of gratitude. She shut her eyes to the little affectations of manner which ordinarily she would have found amusing. She refused to acknowledge to herself that Horace was bragging. She had never liked him, and the Horace who had invited her to the Field Day exercises was in all essentials the Horace of the velvet suit; yet now, if she had heard him criticized, she would have rushed impetuously to his defense. In short, Priscilla was started on a course which many an older and wiser woman has followed to disaster.
Priscilla was in no hurry to mention the fact that she expected to be a spectator of the Field Day events. The very intensity of her previous qualms made her the more inclined to treat the present situation nonchalantly. On Thursday evening, however, she remarked casually to Peggy that she hoped their seats would not be too far separated. Peggy looked up in pleased surprise.
"Are you going, Priscilla? I'm awful glad. Who's taking you?"
"Horace Hitchcock."
"Horace Hitchcock!" Peggy repeated the name in such accents of astonishment that Priscilla flushed. "Why not?" she asked rather coldly.
"I didn't know you saw anything of him."