The next number, as he surmised, was a square dance.
“Take your pardners fer a quadrille!”
There was a scrambling and a sliding over the floor, accompanied by much laughter, to the quickly formed “sets.”
“There’s a place, Kate—on the side, too, so you have only to watch what the others do.”
She hesitated, but he could see the longing in her eyes.
He taunted boyishly, “Don’t be a 'fraidy cat,'” at which for the first time they both laughed with something of naturalness.
Mr. Scales of the Emporium and his plump bookkeeper were there, and the willowy barber with the stylish operator of the new telephone exchange, while Mr. and Mrs. Neifkins made the third couple, and Hugh and Kate completed the set.
There was an exchange of looks as the pair came up. The stylish operator lifted an eyebrow and drew down the corners of her mouth. The bookkeeper said, “Well!” with much significance,—but it remained for Mrs. Neifkins to give the real offense. The expression on her vapid face implied that she was aghast at their impudence. Gathering the fullness of her skirt as though to withdraw it from contamination she laid the other hand on her husband’s arm:
“There’s a place over there, Myron, where we can get in.”
“It’s nearer the music,” said Neifkins with an apologetic grin to the others.