"A writer?" Susan looked interested.
"Yes, you know him, of course. Bocqueraz--that's who it is!"
"Not Stephen Graham Bocqueraz!" ejaculated Susan, round-eyed.
"Yes--yes!" Mr. Browning liked her enthusiasm.
"But is he here?" Susan asked, almost reverently. "Why, I'm perfectly crazy about his books!" she confided. "Why--why--he's about the biggest there IS!"
"Yes, he writes good stuff," the man agreed. "Well, now, don't you miss meeting him! He'll be here directly," his eyes roved to the stairway, a few feet from where they were sitting. "Here he is now!" said he. "Come now, Miss Brown---"
"Oh, honestly! I'm scared--I don't know what to say!" Susan said in a panic. But Browning's fat little hand was firmly gripped over hers and she went with him to meet the two or three men who were chatting together as they came slowly, composedly, into the ball-room.