This serious change in the appearance of Algernon, was not without its effect upon Ella.  Naturally of a tender, affectionate, and sympathetic disposition, she could not feel at ease when another was suffering, and particularly when that other was one standing so high in her estimation as Algernon Reynolds.  Naturally, too, possessing light and buoyant spirits—­fond of gaiety where all were gay—­she exhibited on the present occasion the effect of two strong but counteracting passions.  Her features, if we may be allowed the comparison, were like the noon-day heavens, when filled with the broken clouds of a passing storm.  Now all would be bright and cheerful, and the sun of mirth would sparkle in her eyes; and anon some dark cloud of dejection would sweep along, shut out the merry light, and cast its shadow drearily over the whole countenance,—­or, to use language without simile, she would one moment be merry and another sad.  Toward the last, however, the latter feeling gained the ascendancy; she appeared to take no further share in the merriment of the dance; and had any watched her closely, they might have guessed the cause, from the manner in which she from time to time gazed at the pale face of Algernon.

Meantime the dance went bravely on, Black Betty circulated somewhat freely, and the mirth of the revelers grew more and more boisterous.  Taking advantage of a slight cessation in the general hilarity, about nine o’clock in the evening, and while the fiddler with some of the party were engaged in partaking of refreshment, Seth Stokes, encouraged doubtless by the inspiration he had received from the whiskey, stepped boldly into the middle of the apartment with the bottle in his hand, and said: 

“Jest allow me, my jollies, to give a toast.”

“Harken all!  A toast—­a toast—­from the long man o’ the bony frame!” cried the voice of Sam Switcher.  A laugh, and then silence followed.

“Here’s to—­to Isaac and Peggy Younker—­two beauties!” continued Seth.  “May thar union be duly acknowledged by the rising generation o’ old Kaintuck;” and the speaker gravely proceeded to drink.

“Bravo! bravo!” cried a dozen voices, with a merry shout, accompanied with great clapping of bands; while Isaac, who was sitting by his new wife, arose, blushed, bowed rather awkwardly, and then sat down again.

“Isaac!  Isaac!—­A toast from Isaac!” shouted a chorus of voices.

Isaac at first looked very much confused—­scratched his head and twisted around in a very fidgetty manner,—­but presently his countenance flushed, and a smile of triumph crossing his sharp features, announced that he had been suddenly favored with an idea apropos.  This was instantly perceived by some of the wags standing near, one of whom exclaimed: 

“I see it—­it’s coming!”

“He’s got it!” said a second.

“I knew it—­I’d ha’ bet a bar-skin he’d fetch it,” cried a third.

“Out with it, Ike, afore you forget it,” shouted the fourth.