The dancing was quite delightful to most of the young people. Even those who just walked about, looked happy, and little knots chatted and smiled, adding a certain interest to the scene. The supper was very fine, and after that many of the quality retired, leaving the floor to those who had come to dance.
Doris looked bright the next morning as she came to breakfast in her blue flannel frock and lace tucker, and her hair tied up high with a red ribbon, which with her white skin "made the American colors," Helen Chapman said.
"I am glad to get back my little girl," Uncle Winthrop exclaimed, as he placed his hands lightly on her shoulders. "You looked strange to me last night. Doris, how tall you are growing!" in half-surprise.
"That is an Adams trait, Aunt Priscilla would say. And do you remember that I am fifteen?"
"Isn't there some way that girls can be set back?" he asked with feigned anxiety.
"I've heard of their being set back after they reached thirty or forty," said Miss Recompense.
"I don't want to wait so long," returned Uncle Winthrop with a smile.
"There were some beautiful old ladies there last night," said Doris. "The one with black velvet and diamonds—Madam Bowdoin. Is that Aunt Priscilla's friend?"
"I suppose so. Mr. Perkins was held in high esteem, and Aunt Priscilla used to go about in her carriage then."
"And Madam Scott! Uncle Win, to think she was John Hancock's wife, and he signed the Declaration of Independence!"