She loved to think of herself as a part of it, alive and moving along with that busy, mind-profitable life. She was glad that she had such clever, wonderful friends. Not one of her chums but that had specialized in some particular talent or craft. She alone was the only one who had no hold on the fine arts beyond being an appreciative worshipper of those who were talented. Thus her thoughts ran until the rise of the curtain on “Desmond O’Dowd.”
From then on she thought only of the play itself. Leila herself had arranged the most of the setting for the first act. The opening scene was laid in the old-fashioned hall of an Irish country house of early eighteenth century. Desmond O’Dowd, the hero, whose free thinking and free speech had placed him in disfavor with the Earl of Claflin, had come to Claflin Eyrie, the earl’s home, in the hope of seeing Mona, the earl’s niece. He wished to say goodbye to her before joining a revolutionary political party which he believed to be the only one working for the good of Ireland.
It was during this act that Leila and Vera were to dance the Irish minuet of which the Hamilton girls were so fond. The play opened with a number of young men and women of Mona’s acquaintance gathered for a little evening party. The high-waisted, comparatively simple costumes of the young women were dainty foils for the dark knee trousers, square cut coats, silk stockings, fancy low shoes and lace falls of the young men. Shoulder length hair, ribbon-tied, formed a part of the picturesque dressing of the young Irish gentlemen of this period.
After a gay little dance in which the whole company joined, came the entrance into the hall of Desmond. Leila played the part with true Celtic intensity and understanding. Vera who took color from constant association with Leila, was no less convincing in the role of dainty Mona. Marjorie leaned forward in her seat breathlessly waiting for the moment to come which would introduce the minuet. She had seen it danced by the two a number of times and never tired of it. She was particularly fond of the charming setting of words that went with a part of the tune. The minuet had special music which Leila had brought from Ireland and which was very old.
“Leila can’t sing the words this time,” Marjorie whispered to Jerry. “She was grumbling to me about it not so very long ago. She can’t sing like a man and she doesn’t care to sing them in her own voice.”
The pleading, persuasive voice of Desmond to Mona, saying: “Just one dance, acushla. Tomorrow I’ll be far away across the lakes and with only the thought of you and your love to keep my poor heart from breaking.”
Marjorie breathed a long sigh of anticipatory pleasure as the preliminary strains of the minuet rose from the orchestra pit where Phillys Moore was conducting her own capable ten piece orchestra. With the usual number of deep, courtly bows the minuet began. Followed the gradual advance down the center of the pair of dancers. The odd, dainty stepping, dignified in its deliberateness. Each step in perfect accord with each note of the music combined to make a poetry of motion difficult to describe. Then—From somewhere off stage a voice suddenly began to sing:
“Down the center little one,
Life for us has just begun:
Down the center, step together,