"Now, Master Wally, me dancin' days are over," said Brownie. "Go an' get one of the girls, now, dearie, do!"
"A girl!—when I can get you?" Wally ejaculated. "Not much!" He tucked her hand into his arm and led her off in triumph.
"Promen-ayde y'r partners!"
Dave turned and nodded to Andy Ferguson, who, with fiddle tucked lovingly under his chin, was waiting for his signal. He broke into a march—the time a little shaky, the tune a little old, for the hand that held the bow was old and shaky, too; but still a march, with a swing to it that set the feet going at once. The dancers promenaded round the room in a long procession, led proudly by Wally and Mrs. Brown. At one end a few men, disappointed in obtaining partners, clustered by the wall; near them stood Mr. Linton, watching in his grave, pleasant way that was so like Jim's, with Cecil at his elbow, his delicate face dull and expressionless. Round and round marched the couples.
"Circular waltz, please!"
The music swung into a waltz without a break, and simultaneously the march broke into the dance as every man seized his partner by the waist and began to revolve solemnly and silently. Cecil gaped.
"What on earth is a circular waltz?"
"Blest if I know for certain," replied his uncle, laughing. "Much like any other waltz—but you mustn't use the middle of the floor. Watch young Boone."
Dave was keeping an eagle eye on the dancers. For the most part they were content to gyrate near the wall; but should any more daring couple approach the unoccupied space in the middle of the room, they were instantly detected and commanded to return. As Cecil looked, Wally, who was dancing with a broad grin of sheer happiness on his face, swung his ponderous partner right across the centre—and was greeted by the vigilant M.C. with the stern injunction—"Keep circle!" Quite oblivious that this outbreak had anything to do with him, while Mrs. Brown, feeling the most miserable of sinners, was far too breathless to explain, Wally presently repeated his offence, whereupon Boone pulled him up gravely, and pointed out his enormity to him. The culprit grinned the more widely, promised amendment, nodded vigorously, and danced off, Mrs. Brown remaining speechless throughout. Mr. Linton smothered a laugh in his beard.
Presently the music came to an end. Old Andy put his fiddle down and looked along the loft with a happy little smile. The dancers stopped, and Mr. Boone's voice rose sonorously.