CHAPTER XXI.
While Stafford was dressing for dinner that night, and wondering whether even if he should get an opportunity of speaking to his father, it would be wise to tell him of Ida, Howard knocked at the door.
Stafford told him to come in, and sent Measom away, and Howard, who was already dressed, sank into an easy-chair and surveyed his friend with bland approval.
"A white tie to-night, Staff?
Anything on ?" "Yes; there is a dance," replied Stafford, rather absently.

What would his father say and do?
Would he go over to Heron Hall the next morning?
Yes, that is what he would do! "A dance?
Is that all?
From the undercurrent of suppressed excitement animating most of the guests I should think it was something more important.

Have you noticed the air of suspense, of fluctuating hope and doubt, triumph and despair which has characterized our noble band of financiers during the last few days ?" Stafford shook his head.
"No; I haven't noticed 'em particularly.

In fact, I scarcely see them, or do more than exchange the usual greetings.

They seem to me to move and look and speak just about as usual." Howard smiled.
"To be young and happy and free from care is to be blind: puppies, for instance, are blind!" Stafford grinned.
"That's complimentary, anyhow.