"Well, wanderers, you're the last of the company to report! Where have you been?"
"Surveying your domain, ma'am," Phil replied; "it's most beautiful by moonlight,—especially when viewed in company with a fair lady."
He bowed gallantly to Azalea, who was looking her best,—a slight blush of excitement on her cheeks at the compliment.
"It is lovely," she said; "the house, from the west lawn, is a wonderful picture! Patty, Mr. Van Reypen has asked me to go to New York with him to-morrow afternoon,—to a matinée. May I?"
"Certainly, my child. And as Mona and I are going down in the early afternoon, we'll all go together in the big car."
Then all went to the hall for a dance. The large reception hall was admirably adapted for this purpose, and the strains of a fine phonograph soon set all feet in motion.
Dancing with Raymond Gale, Azalea pirouetted gaily with some fancy steps.
"Good!" he cried, falling into the spirit of the thing, and they pranced about in a mad whirl.
"How Western she is," Elise said to Phil, with whom she was sedately one-stepping.
"Clever dancer," he returned, briefly, and the subject was not continued.