tin that she'll be sure to wear,--and the saints keep her
from wearing her pink satin slippers with it, but I don't think they
can. It would be a strong saint at the least," said Peggy
thoughtfully. "I'd better be in my green."

"Then I can wear----" said Marjorie, and stopped to consider. She had
one frock that was very gorgeous, and she decided to wear it. It would
certainly seem meek contrasted with Mrs. Schneider's red satin.

"Come on, and I'll bring this, and we can hook each other up," Peggy
proposed ardently, and followed her down in a kimono.

So they hooked each other up, except where there were snappers, and
admired each other exceedingly. Marjorie's frock was a yellow one that
Lucille had hounded her into buying, and she looked as vivid in it as a
firefly.

Francis had been given orders to wear his uniform, which he was doing.
He looked very natural that way to Marjorie; there were others of the
men in uniform as well. There were perhaps twenty people already
arrived when the girls came downstairs, seven or eight girls and twelve
or fourteen men. And Marjorie discovered that young persons in the
backwoods believed in dressing up to their opportunities. Some of the
frocks were obviously home-made, but all were gorgeous, even in the
case of one black-eyed _habitant_ damsel who had constructed a
confection, copied accurately and cleverly from some advanced
fashion-paper, out of cheesecloth and paper muslin!

One of the men was sacrificed to the phonograph, and for hours it never
stopped going. Records had been brought by others of the men and
girls, and Marjorie had never seen such gay and unwearied dancing. She
was tossed and caught from one big backwoodsman to another, the dances
being "cut-in" shamelessly, because the women were fewer than the men.
They nearly all danced well, French or Yankee or Englishmen. There
were a couple of young Englishmen whom she particularly liked, who had
ridden twenty miles, she heard, to come and dance. And finally she
found herself touched on the shoulder by her own husband, and dancing
smoothly away with him.

"This isn't much like the last time and place where we danced," he
said, smiling down at her and then glancing at the big, bare room with
its kerosene lamps and bough-trimmed walls. "Do you remember?"

She laughed and nodded. "Maxim's, wasn't it? But I like this best.
There's something in the air here that keeps you feeling so alive all
the time,