"I shall put you all out—I haven't taken a step in twenty years," pleaded the old man.
"Never mind, we will teach you—we will all teach you—so come along," broke from half a dozen voices, and Mrs. Chester laughingly took the old man captive, leading him to the floor with a look of playful triumph.
Isabel, after a vain effort to persuade Mary to join her, took a side by herself, quite capable of dancing enough for two at least.
Then the violin sent forth an air that kindled the blood even in that old man's veins. The dancers put themselves in motion—right and left—ladies' chain. It went off admirably. The old man was rather stiff and awkward at first, but the young folks soon broke him in and he turned, now the little girls then Mrs. Chester, and then the tall lady with the cameo; true she was on the side, but then the old gentleman was not particular, and his ladies' chain became rather an intricate affair at last, he added so many superfluous links to it.
But nothing could daunt him after he once got into the spirit of it, and he went through the whole like an old hero; the only difficulty was, he never knew when to stop.
Just in the height of the dance, when the needle-merchant was all in a glow, balancing to every lady, and getting up a sort of extemporaneous affair, made from old remembrances of "The Cheat" and "The Virginia Reel," the whole company stopped short, and he exclaimed—
"Bless my soul!"
And drawing forth a red silk handkerchief, he made a motion, as if his forehead wanted dusting.
"Bless my soul!" he repeated, "Laura, my dear, have the goodness to look, my love."
Mrs. Peters turned, and spite of her cameo defences, blushed guiltily.