“Yes,” she agreed, “there’s nothing quite like a waltz.”
She took great pleasure in arranging for this simple social affair. She sent a bevy of girls into the hills to gather branches of maple and sumac. These, all afire with colors of autumn, turned the rather drab social hall into an elfin grotto. High in one corner she hung a cardboard moon. Behind this was a powerful electric lamp.
“For the last waltz,” she whispered to Verna who was helping. “We will turn off all the other lamps and waltz by the light of the golden moon.”
“That,” said the happy girl softly, “will be grand.”
Their waltz night came and with it such a crowd as the Community House had never before known.
From the musicians of the community Florence had managed to assemble an excellent orchestra.
To the swinging rhythm of “The Beautiful Blue Danube,” Danby Force and Florence led the merrymakers away for the first dance.
“They’re happy,” Danby Force said as a pleased smile passed over his face. “Truly, peacefully happy. This waltz night idea is going to be fine. We’ll have several of them, have them all winter long.”
“Has he forgotten?” Florence asked herself. “Has the spy and my mission here slipped from his memory so soon?” It surely seemed so, for here he was planning her social service work for the distant future.
“Some day,” she told herself with a little shudder, “there will be a big blow-up around here. The spy will be found. Perhaps I shall find him. And then there will be no more social work done by little, big Florence.”