“We’re all going,” said Dolly, “after one dance. Uncle Jim wants to see us do a Virginia Reel, and Mrs. Rawlins is going to play for us. Come on.”
“Nobody will ask me to dance. I want to go home.”
Just then, Tad came up to Dolly and asked her to dance with him.
“Not unless you find a partner for Bernice,” said Dolly. She spoke in a low tone, and they turned away, so Bernice did not hear. But she imagined what they were saying, and it did not tend to make her happier.
“Can’t do it,” said Tad, positively. “Nobody will dance with that lemon! Why, look at her, Doll! She’s a human thunder-cloud. Who’d dance with that?”
“Then I’ll dance with her, myself. I’d rather do that, than have her left out.”
“Oh, fiddlesticks! Leave her alone, and let’s get our places. You can’t scare me, saying you’ll dance with her! No, sir, not little Dolly Fayre. She’s going to trip it with yours truly, and that’s all there is about that!”
Then Dolly had an inspiration. “Wait a minute,” she said to Tad, and she ran over to where Uncle Jim was smiling at his guests.
“Aren’t you going to dance, Uncle Jim?” she said.
“Well, now, I hadn’t thought on’t. But it’s right down nice of you to ask me. I’d like to,—by gum, I’d like to! But which of all these perty young misses would dance with me? I ask you that?”