The supper in the main house was early, and the smaller children were put to bed. The three Masons and young Archibald Floyd, who had his grandfather's name, were to be allowed at the "grand occasion." There were a number of guests, and seats around the outside were prepared for them.
"And we used to open the dancing," said Jane. "How proud they were about young missy! And we tried some of the charms. Looking for your future husband in a pail of water with a mirror at the bottom. And jumping over the candles—do you remember that, Polly? What fun we used to have with the girls! Why, it is three or four years since I have been here at Christmastide."
"Oh, will they jump over the candles?" cried Jaqueline. "They did it at the Fairfaxes' last year, and Betty put the very first one out."
"Why, Betty must be two and twenty," said Jane. "It would be queer if the sign came true."
"It doesn't really," laughed Jaqueline. "It is like tipping your chair over and tumbling up stairs."
"I want to try it," declared Dolly. "If you go over the whole seven you are going to be married soon. The others count for years. And if you put the first one out you will surely be an old maid."
Some of the songs were very pretty, some ridiculously funny, several embellished by pantomime. Then the charms began. The first few were rather simple, and caused an immense amount of giggling among the young Phillises. The shadow faces were pursued with a certain awe, as if they really were something uncanny.
Dolly, Jaqueline, and a young lady guest were the only ones of the "quality" who cared to look.
"It is as much your own shadow as anything," declared Jaqueline, "and it quivers so that you can hardly make it out."
The candles were lighted and placed in a row at even distances. The young lads tried them first. There were no skirts in the way, and they went over them triumphantly.