“Not in the least,” Mrs. Cranston assured her, smilingly. “Young people should enjoy themselves while they can. Ah, here comes Steve. I was sure he would be looking for us.”
Stephen was looking for them, and so were Jimmy Fairfax and several other young sailors, whose acquaintance the girls had made since coming to New London, and in a very few minutes they had all made their way to the ballroom, and even Geraldine had been provided with a partner.
Gretel was fond of dancing, and moreover, she danced exceedingly well. Before the evening was half over, she had decided that she was having the “time of her life.”
“I have hardly seen anything of you,” Stephen complained, coming up to her, where she stood fanning herself by his mother’s side. “I’ve looked for you several times, but you were always dancing. Have you a partner for the next?”
Gretel admitted that she had not.
“Then dance it with me, and let me take you in to supper afterwards. I say, Mother, just look at Geraldine. She’s danced every dance. The fellows are all crazy about her; she’s so jolly and unaffected.”
“I’m so glad Geraldine is having a good time,” said Gretel, as she and Stephen moved away to the music of a lively one-step. “She was afraid no one would notice her because her hair wasn’t up. It was awfully good of you to introduce so many boys to her.”
Stephen laughed.
“Geraldine’s all right,” he said. “I’m sure the fellows like her much better than that affected Ross girl, staying at the Godfreys’. By the way, your friend Ada is more patriotic than ever to-night. I’ve heard her lecturing three separate partners on their duty to their country.”
“Poor Ada,” said Gretel, laughing, “she really is tremendously in earnest. Molly says Ada’s greatest fault is an absence of the sense of humor.”