after-dinner ceremonies. The three horns, the cymbals, the triangle,
and the drum were soon heard tuning-up behind the banqueting-hall,
and the ladies went to the further end of the old boat to make their
preparations for the dance. Then it was that the thoughtful care of
Mrs Greenow, in having sent Jeannette with brushes, combs, clean
handkerchiefs, and other little knick-knackeries, became so apparent.
It was said that the widow herself actually changed her cap,--which
was considered by some to be very unfair, as there had been an
understanding that there should be no dressing. On such occasions
ladies are generally willing to forego the advantage of dressing
on the condition that other ladies shall forego the same advantage;
but when this compact is broken by any special lady, the treason
is thought to be very treacherous. It is as though a fencer should
remove the button from the end of his foil. But Mrs Greenow was so
good-natured in tendering the services of Jeannette to all the young
ladies, and was so willing to share with others those good things of
the toilet which her care had provided, that her cap was forgiven her
by the most of those present.

When ladies have made up their minds to dance they will dance let the
circumstances of the moment be ever so antagonistic to that exercise.
A ploughed field in February would not be too wet, nor the side of a
house too uneven. In honest truth the sands of the seashore are not
adapted for the exercise. It was all very well for Venus to make the
promise, but when making it she knew that Adonis would not keep her
to her word. Let any lightest-limbed nymph try it, and she will find
that she leaves most palpable footing. The sands in question were
doubtless compact, firm, and sufficiently moist to make walking on
them comfortable; but they ruffled themselves most uncomfortably
under the unwonted pressure to which they were subjected.
Nevertheless our friends did dance on the sands; finding, however,
that quadrilles and Sir Roger de Coverley suited them better than
polkas and waltzes.

"No, my friend, no," Mrs Greenow said to Mr Cheesacre when that
gentleman endeavoured to persuade her to stand up; "Kate will be
delighted I am sure to join you,--but as for me, you must excuse me."

But Mr Cheesacre was not inclined at that moment to ask Kate Vavasor
to dance with him. He was possessed by an undefined idea that Kate
had snubbed him, and as Kate's fortune was, as he sai