There was no sitting still for Polly after that, for the lads kept her going at a great pace; and she was so happy, she never saw or suspected how many little manœuvres, heartburnings, displays of vanity, affectation, and nonsense were going on all round her. She loved dancing, and entered into the gaiety of the scene with a heartiness that was pleasant to see. Her eyes shone, her face glowed, her lips smiled, and the brown curls waved in the air as she danced, with a heart as light as her feet.

“Are you enjoying yourself, Polly?” asked Mr. Shaw, who looked in, now and then, to report to grandma that all was going well.

“Oh, such a splendid time!” cried Polly, with an enthusiastic little gesture, as she chasséed into the corner where he stood.

“She is a regular belle among the boys,” said Fanny, as she promenaded by.

“They are so kind in asking me, and I’m not afraid of them,” explained Polly, prancing, simply because she couldn’t keep still.

“So you are afraid of the young gentlemen, hey?” and Mr. Shaw held her by one curl.

“All but Mr. Sydney. He don’t put on airs and talk nonsense; and oh! he does ‘dance like an angel’, as Trix says.”

“Papa, I wish you’d come and waltz with me. Fan told me not to go near her, ’cause my wed dwess makees her pink one look ugly; and Tom won’t; and I want to dweadfully.”

“I’ve forgotten how, Maudie. Ask Polly; she’ll spin you round like a teetotum.”

“Mr. Sydney’s name is down for that,” answered Polly, looking at her fan with a little air of importance. “But I guess he wouldn’t mind my taking poor Maud instead. She hasn’t danced hardly any, and I’ve had more than my share. Would it be very improper to change my mind?” And Polly looked up at her tall partner with eyes which plainly showed that the change was a sacrifice.

“Not a bit. Give the little dear a good waltz, and we will look on,” answered Mr. Sydney, with a nod and a smile.

“That is a refreshing little piece of nature,” said Mr. Shaw, as Polly and Maud whirled away.

“She will make a charming little woman, if she isn’t spoilt.”

“No danger of that. She has got a sensible mother.”

“I thought so.” And Sydney sighed, for he had lately lost his own good mother.

When supper was announced, Polly happened to be talking, or trying to talk, to one of the “pokey” gentlemen whom Fan had introduced. He took Miss Milton down, of course, put her in a corner, and having severed her to a dab of ice and one macaroon, he devoted himself to his own supper with such interest, that Polly would have fared badly if Tom had not come and rescued her.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Come with me, and don’t sit starving here,” said Tom, with a scornful look from her empty plate to that of her recreant escort, which was piled with good things.

Following her guide, Polly was taken to the big china closet opening from the dining-room to the kitchen, and here she found a jovial little party feasting at ease. Maud and her bosom friend, “Gwace”, were seated on tin cake-boxes; Sherry and Spider adorned the refrigerator; while Tom and Rumple foraged for the party.