Norah kept close to her father's wing, as they entered, shaking hands gravely with the men by the door, and with Mrs. Brown—which latter proceeding she privately considered a joke. The boys followed; Jim quiet and pleasant; Wally favouring Murty O'Toole with a solemn wink, and Cecil plainly bored by the little ceremony. He let his fingers lie in each man's hand languidly—and would probably have been injured had he seen Murty wipe his hand carefully on the side of his trousers after he had passed on. The men had no love for the city boy.
"S'lect y'r partners!" It was Dave Boone, most noted "M.C."—in demand at every ball in the district. Dave knew what he was about, and saw that other people understood the fact; no shirking when he was in command, no infringement of rules, no slip-shod dancing. Even as he kept his eagle eye on the throng, he "selected" one of the prettiest girls himself, and bore her to the head of the room. There was never any doubt of Dave's generalship.
Cecil turned to Norah.
"May I have this?"
"Sorry," Norah said, "I always dance with Jim first."
"P'f!" said Cecil, lightly. "That old brother-and-sister idea is exploded."
"Not with Jimmy and me," Norah answered. "Why don't you ask Mary? She can dance awfully well."
"No, thank you," said Cecil, with elevated nose. "I'll watch."
Wally had approached Mrs. Brown, and bowed low.
"Ours, I think?"