It’s quite a likely lookin’ assortment on the whole, though, all costumed elegant and showin’ signs of bein’ fairly well parlor broke.

“What’s the occasion?” says I on the side to Miss Vee.  “Reunion of somebody’s Sunday school class?”

She gives me a punch and smothers a snicker, “Don’t let Cousin Eulalia hear you say such a thing,” says she.

We only had a minute; but from what she manages to whisper durin’ the general chatter I makes out that this is a little scheme Eulalia’d planned to sort of launch Vee into the younger set.  She’s from Atlanta, Cousin Eulalia is, one of the best fam’lies, and kind of a perennial society belle that’s tinkled through quite some seasons, but refuses to quit.  Just now she’s spendin’ a month with Fifth-ave. friends, and has just discovered that Vee and her are close connected through a step-uncle marryin’ a half-sister of Eulalia’s brother-in-law, or something like that.  Anyhow, she insists on the cousin racket, and has started right in to rush Vee to the front.

She’s some rasher, Eulalia is, too.  No twenty-minutes-to-or-after silences while she’s conductin’ affairs.  Course, it’s kind of frothy stuff to pass for conversation; but it bubbles out constant, and she blows it around impartial.  Her idea of giving Cousin Vee a perfectly good time seems to be to have us all grouped around that windowseat and take turns shootin’ over puffs of hot air; sort of a taffy-throwin’ competition, you know, with Vee as the mark.

But Vee don’t seem tickled to death over it.  She ain’t fussed exactly, as Eulalia rounds us up in a half-circle; but she colors up a little and acts kind of bored.  She’s some picture, though.  M-m-m-m!  And it was worth while bein’ one of a mob, just to stand there watchin’ her.

I expect the young college hicks felt a good deal the same about it as me, even if they was havin’ hard work diggin’ up appropriate remarks when Eulalia swings the arrow so it points to them.  Anyway, they does their best to come up with the polite jolly, and nobody makes a break to quit.

It’s durin’ the tea and sandwich scramble, though, that Cousin Eulalia gets her happy hunch.  Seems that Sappy Westlake has come forward with an invite to a box party just as Vee is tryin’ to make up her mind whether she’ll go with Teddy Braden to some cotillion capers, or accept a dinner dance bid from one of the other young gents.

“And all for Wednesday night!” says she.  “How stupid of you, with the week so long!”

“But I’d planned this box party especially for you,” protests Sappy.

“Oh, give someone else a chance, Westlake,” cuts in Reggy.  “That’s the night of our frat dance, and I want to ask Miss Vee if——­”

“What’s this all about?” demands Eulalia, dancin’ kittenish into the limelight.  “Rivalry among our gallant knights?  Then the Princess Charming must decide.”

“Oh, don’t, Cousin Eulalia,” says Vee, wrinklin’ her nose the least bit.  “Please!”