Marise laughed out, as round a peal as little Mark’s, but she evidently thought they had gone far enough with their fooling, for she now brought the talk back to a safe, literal level by crying, “Well, there’s one thing sure, Mr. Welles can’t worry his head about any of the always-with-us difficulties of life, as long as he is dancing art Ashley quadrille.”

Mr. Welles concurred in this with feeling.  “I’d no idea I would ever experience anything so . . . so . . . well, I tell you, I thought I’d left fun behind me, years and years ago.”

“Oh, what you’ve had is nothing compared to what you’re going to have,” Marise told him.  “Just wait till old Nate strikes up the opening bars of ‘The Whirlwind’ and see the roof of the house fly off.  See here,” she laid her hand on his arm.  “This is leap-year.  I solemnly engage you to dance ‘The Whirlwind’ with me.”  She made the gesture of the little-boy athlete, feeling the biceps of one arm, moving her forearm up and down.  “I’m in good health, and good muscle, because I’ve been out stirring up the asparagus bed with a spading-fork.  I can shove you around as well as old Mrs. Powers, if I do say it who shouldn’t.”

Vincent looked down at her, bubbling with light-hearted merriment, and thought, “There is no end to the variety of her moods!”

She glanced up at him, caught his eyes on her and misinterpreted their wondering expression.  “You think I’m just silly and childish, don’t you?” she told him challengingly.  “Oh, don’t be such an everlasting adult.  Life’s not so serious as all that!”

He stirred to try to protest, but she went on, “It’s dancing that sets me off.  Nelly Powers and I are crazy about it.  And so far as my observation of life extends, our dances here are the only social functions left in the world, that people really enjoy and don’t go to merely because it’s the thing to.  It always goes to my head to see people enjoy themselves.  It’s so sweet.”

Mr. Welles gave her one of his affectionate pats on her hand.  Vincent asked her casually, “What’s the idea of making a family party of it and bringing the children too?”

She answered dashingly, “If I answer you in your own language, I’d say that it’s because their households are in such a low and lamentably primitive condition that they haven’t any slave-labor to leave the children with, and so bring them along out of mere brute necessity.  If I answer you in another vocabulary, I’d say that there is a close feeling of family unity, and they like to have their children with them when they are having a good time, and find it pleasant to see mothers dancing with their little boys and fathers with their little girls.”

* * * * *

Without the slightest premonition of what his next question was to bring out, and only putting it to keep the talk going, Vincent challenged her, “Why don’t you bring your own, then?” He kept down with difficulty the exclamation which he inwardly added, “If you only knew what a relief it is to see you for once, without that intrusive, tiresome bunch of children!”