Just then the pavilion loomed up, with the paper covered lights and jazzing music, not the usual, ordinary summer place, but rather a little spot in the wilderness where, evidently, the young folks of Craggy Bluff found such evening entertainment as Dell had so briefly described.
It was all a little strange to Nancy, who had never before been thrown in with such grown up young folks. Even Rosa, although in reality only a few months older than Nancy, seemed very grown up and superficial, now that she was mingling with numbers of friends who promptly greeted their arrival at the dance hall.
Gar took himself and his car off, excusing himself to join other boys who claimed him, while Rosa insisted upon Nancy dancing.
“Let’s wait a while,” Nancy coaxed, not wishing to lose herself at once in the gliding dancers.
“Can’t,” objected Rosa. “I’ve got to dance. It’s good for me,” she whispered; and when the two girls did glide off, Nancy was agreeably surprised at the ease displayed by her cousin.
“Just like floating,” Rosa explained. “I Can float all day. And dancing is such a silly walk, isn’t it? Don’t even have to bend.”
It was not much more than a rhythmic walk, and as for bending—surely that was quite out of question, for that season’s dance was markedly a glide.
Dell was dancing with some young man, and Gar was not to be seen about, when Rosa led Nancy over to a corner of the platform.
“I just thought I saw—someone I knew over here,” she said, “Orilla, you know. But I don’t imagine she would be out here—she’s so busy, always.”
Rosa was peering into the dark corners where some few persons stood watching the dancers. Somehow Nancy was secretly hoping that Rosa was mistaken, for while she had a certain curiosity to see this much talked of Orilla, she would rather have delayed the experience until some other time.