"There will be all summer to say it in. And there is only one May dance. Susette!"
Susette came with sparkling eyes.
"This young man is dance bewitched. See how he has changed. We can hardly believe it is the Pierre we used to run races and climb trees with in nutting time. And he knows how to dance;" laughing.
Pierre held out his hand, but there was a shade of reluctance in his eyes.
"I thought you were never going to throw over that great giant," said Martin Lavosse. "I suppose every girl will go crazy about him because he has been up north and made some money. His father has planned to take him into business. Jeanne, dance with me."
"No, not now. I am tired."
"I should think you would be, pulled around at that rate. Look, Susette can hardly keep up, and her braids have tumbled."
"Did I look like that?" asked Jeanne with sudden disapprobation in her tone.
"Oh, no, no! You were like—like the fairies and wood things old Mère Michaud tells of. Your hair just floated around like a cloud full of twilight—"
"No, the black ones when the thunderstorm is coming on," she returned mischievously.