It seemed rather odd that at eight o'clock not a soul had come. At home they would be beginning the fun by this time. Then a sudden influx of girls, some she had met before—two or three young men—and then young Saltonstall, who had been counting the moments the last half hour.
"I am so glad to see you. It was such a surprise."
He could see it in her face, hear it in her voice. He really was afraid of saying something foolish—something that would be no harm if they were alone.
"I've known Mrs. Stevens a long while. And Mr. Giles Leverett. It's queer—well, not quite that either—that I've known you such a little while. I always thought of you as a child, though I've seen you drive your pony carriage."
"Mrs. Stevens is delightful."
Then there was another relay, quite a number of young gentlemen. The black fiddlers in the hall began to tune up.
There were two very handsome girls and beautifully gowned. All of them looked pretty in dancing attire. Then a quadrille was called. There were just eight couples.
Of course, Mr. Saltonstall took her. The rug was up and the floor had been polished. The dancing was elegant, harmonious.
"The next is the Spanish dance. You will like that. The windings about are like the song words to the music."
"But—I don't know it;" and she shrank back.