"I'm sorry, truly, Cecil, but I've promised it to Murty."
"Oh!" said Cecil. "The next?"
"That's Mick Shanahan's," said Norah, laughing. "But you may have the one after that if you like."
"I must be thankful for small mercies, I suppose," said he, unthankfully.
"Won't you dance with any one else?"
"No, thanks, I don't care to." The tone was final.
"Well, I'm going to collar Sarah or die!" said Wally, manfully. "I'll probably die, anyway, 'cause Fred has his eye on her. Still, here goes!"
The musicians gave a preliminary blast, on which followed a shout from the M.C.
"Select y'r partners for the lancers!"
At the word there was a general stampede. Youths who had been timid before, grown bolder now, dashed towards the long row of girls. Where more than one arrived simultaneously, there was no argument; the man who failed to speak first shot off to find another damsel. In a moment every available fair one had been secured firmly, and the dancers awaited further commands.