So they dismissed the chairmen, and went far down the long pier to listen to a concert.
A children's dance was being held, and Marjorie sat down, enraptured at the sight.
Lots of boys and girls about her own age, in fancy costumes, were dancing and pirouetting in time with the fine music. One little girl, especially, Marjorie admired. She was a pretty child, in a white frock and blue sash, and she wore a wreath of small rosebuds on her curly, flaxen hair. She seemed to be the best of all the dancers, and twice she danced alone, doing marvellous fancy steps and receiving great applause from the audience.
"Isn't she lovely!" exclaimed Midget. "I wish I could dance like that."
"You never can, Mopsy," said King. "You're too heavy. That girl is a featherweight."
"She looks nice," said Midget. "I'd like to know her."
And then, as it was nearing nine o'clock, they left the dancing pavilion, and made their way back to their hotel.
Marjorie kept close to her parents, for the crowd seemed to grow denser all the time, and if she lost sight of her people, she feared she'd be swept away from them forever.
They were staying at Madden Hall, and as they reached it, there, too, music was being played, and some people were dancing in the big ballroom. But there were no children about, so Midget trotted off to bed cheerfully, with lots of pleasant anticipations for the morrow.
At breakfast, next morning, she was looking around the dining room, when she spied the same little girl who had danced so prettily the night before.