Philip Senior placed his hands lightly over her shoulders: “Hilary, child, you have done more already for my little girl in lessons of self-reliance and devotion to work than these baubles and trifles could ever do for you.” And Hilary was comforted.
“Clear the floor for the Virginia reel!” called Philip. Methodist Hilary looked up startled. “Don’t worry, Hilary,” said the amused Cathalina, who was standing near. “It is not a real dance—that is, no more than the gym dances. This is a family custom,—once a year, and Sir Roger De Coverly, well, they prance around like this,” and Cathalina held one hand high as if reaching toward an imaginary partner, and minced about in a rhythmic walk.
Uncle Knickerbocker was approaching Madame Sylvia with what Hilary called “gym steps and variations”. Aunt Knickerbocker with a sweeping courtesy was greeting Uncle Martin, who reached her just before Philip Senior. “Never mind, Philip; it’s fine to be popular,—and Martin is always such fun,—no offense, Philip?”
“None whatever, Madam,” replied her host, his hand on his heart, “though I envy Martin!”
“Twas ever thus,” sighed Martin Van Buskirk, “valued not so much for my handsome face as for my ready tongue!”
“Your ready heels, my lad!” returned Aunt Katherine, as he led her out.
“Look at ’em!” said Cathalina, poking Hilary. “You’d think Father was a boy tonight.”
Hilary shook with laughter at the jokes and the exaggerated old-time manners assumed for the occasion as the elders took their places. The younger children preferred to play with their toys, but the rest lined up in the double line. Cathalina played for them this time,—an old-fashioned tune that set Hilary’s feet to tapping. Campbell, tall, handsome lad, came up and asked her to be his partner. Hilary imitated the low curtseys of the rest to match his bow, saying, “I wish I could, Campbell, but I’d be sure to get mixed up and spoil it all. Isn’t it pretty?”
Campbell drew up an easy chair by Hilary’s and stretched out lazily. “I’m quite contented to sit here by you. I guess Uncle Knickerbocker couldn’t have eaten the turkey I did. Look at the fancy steps he is putting in. I bet he’ll be lame tomorrow!”
“He’s such a fine old gentleman,” said Hilary, warmly, “handsome yet.”