had just been
introduced to a stranger.

"You ought not to be hard on him," said Westerfelt; "he must have meant
what he said."

"You are jest like all the rest, I reckon," she said; "men think girls
don't care for nothin' but sweet talk."

Just then the old negro fiddler moved into the chimney-corner and raked
his violin with his bow. Jennie Wynn knew that he was about to ask the
couples to take their places for the first dance. She did not want
Westerfelt to feel obliged to ask her to be his partner, so she
pretended to be interested in the talk of a couple on her left.

"Do they dance the lancers?" asked Westerfelt.

"No, jest the reg'lar square dance. Only one or two know the lancers,
an' they make a botch of it whenever they try to teach the rest. Uncle
Mack cayn't play the music for it, anyway, though he swears he can."

She glanced across the room at a pretty little girl with short curly
hair, slender body, and small feet, and added, significantly, "Sarah
Wambush is our brag dancer."

He understood what she meant. "Too short for a fellow as tall as I am,
though," he said.

"Git yo' pahtners fer de quadrille!" cried the fiddler, in a sing-song
voice, quite in harmony with his music. Westerfelt did not want to
dance. He had ridden hard that day, and was tired and miserable, but
he saw no way of escape. The party had been given in his honor, and he
must show appreciation of it.

"Will you dance it with me?" he asked the girl at his side. "I am not
a good dancer, and I am stiff from riding to-day."

"Old Mack will soon take that out of you," she laughed, as she gladly
nodded her acceptance. She put out her hand to his. "Quick!" she
cried; "let's git that place near the door--it's head, and we can be
opposite Sarah and Nelse Baker." He followed her across the room. He
felt as undignified as if he were romping with a child. The room was
not large enough for two sets, so only one of four couples was formed.
Old Mack noticed that three couples were left sitting, and cried out,
autocratically, "Double on de sides!" Two couples sprang eagerly
forward and took places, leaving one couple alone in a corner. The
girl remaining with her partner attracted Westerfelt's attention. She
had rich brown hair, deep gray eyes, a small, well-shaped mouth, and a
rather sad but decidedly pretty face. There was something very
graceful and attractive in the general contour of her body--her small
waist, her bro