John, or Gill, as he was called, conducted Lizzī—for that was what her brothers shortened her name to—to the end of the porch opposite the musicians, who had seats raised above the floor.
Many of the guests were grouped near this platform, gathered around Jacob McAnay and his wife; and Gill and Lizzī had the other end of the porch to themselves. She leaned over the rail and looked at a star twinkling near the horizon, which was made in the West for Three-Sisters by a ridge that was precipitous and high.
"Lizzī," said Gill, "will you be my wife?"
The shrill voice of Bill Kellar broke upon their ears.
"Cotton, Lizzī! cotton, quick! or there'll be no more dancing here to-night."
Lizzī turned impatiently toward him.
"Never mind him; he's drunk," said Gill.
"Lizzī, the devil is here, and wants a dance, and if I don't get some cotton for my ears, I'll have to give it to him."
"I must humor him, John," said Lizzī, and disappeared in the house.