And the next instant the bandmaster waved his baton, the music crashed all at once, and the first dance was begun.
A dance with plebes present!
To say that the three, Mark, Chauncey and "B'gee," were the cynosure of all eyes would not begin to express the situation. Every one's glance was fairly glued upon them. Girls forgot their dance partners, cadets stopped still in their tracks. Not a soul offered to dance. Not a soul did anything but stare at those three idiots.
They did not seem the least bit ill at ease. All of them seemed quite in their element. Their attire was surely immaculate; Chauncey was fairly radiant in an elegantly handled monocle. And they did not seem to notice the stares, intentionally rude, that came from the cadets. They knew just what to do, and they did it, while the whole room watched and gasped.
Grace Fuller, belle of West Point, sat in one corner of the room, a perfect vision of loveliness indescribable. About her were half a dozen cadets. Her stern old father sat nearby, with Mrs. Fuller beside him. And toward that group those idiotic plebes were going!
The yearlings gasped in horror, bit their lips in vexation. For Judge Fuller arose from his seat and welcomed Mark Mallory heartily; his wife did likewise. The three sat down and began to talk to them and to Grace, at which the cadets with that party went off in horror and amazement.
Well, there was no use staring any more, for the three plebes were safe behind that bulwark; and vexed and aggravated, the cadets went their ways and began to dance. They kept their eyes on the three, however. They saw Mrs. Fuller rise suddenly and cross the room, with Chauncey and Dewey at her side. And then what must she do but introduce them to two girls? Oh!
This was terrible! Bull Harris, Mark's old enemy, was in the very act of asking one of the girls, a tall, stately creature clad in pink, if he might have the pleasure, etc.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Harris," said she. "But I'm already engaged for this dance."
And then up stepped Mrs. Fuller.