“Yes, it’s quite different from Seacote, isn’t it?  Everybody here seems to be in a hurry.”

“That’s only because it’s such a big and lively crowd.  Here we are at the pier.  I think we’d better go in and hear the music.”

So they dismissed the chairmen, and went far down the long pier to listen to a concert.

A children’s dance was being held, and Marjorie sat down, enraptured at the sight.

Lots of boys and girls about her own age, in fancy costumes, were dancing and pirouetting in time with the fine music.  One little girl, especially, Marjorie admired.  She was a pretty child, in a white frock and blue sash, and she wore a wreath of small rosebuds on her curly, flaxen hair.  She seemed to be the best of all the dancers, and twice she danced alone, doing marvellous fancy steps and receiving great applause from the audience.

“Isn’t she lovely!” exclaimed Midget.  “I wish I could dance like that.”

“You never can, Mopsy,” said King.  “You’re too heavy.  That girl is a featherweight.”

“She looks nice,” said Midget.  “I’d like to know her.”

And then, as it was nearing nine o’clock, they left the dancing pavilion, and made their way back to their hotel.

Marjorie kept close to her parents, for the crowd seemed to grow denser all the time, and if she lost sight of her people, she feared she’d be swept away from them forever.

They were staying at Madden Hall, and as they reached it, there, too, music was being played, and some people were dancing in the big ballroom.  But there were no children about, so Midget trotted off to bed cheerfully, with lots of pleasant anticipations for the morrow.

At breakfast, next morning, she was looking around the dining room, when she spied the same little girl who had danced so prettily the night before.

“Oh, Mother,” she exclaimed, “there she is!  That pretty girl that danced.  See, at the next table but two.  Yes, it is the same one!”

“Sure it is,” agreed King.  “She’s staying here.  Perhaps we can get acquainted with her, Mops.”

“Could we, Mother?  Would it be right?”

“We’ll see about it,” said Mrs. Maynard, smiling at her impulsive daughter.  After breakfast the Maynard party walked out on the veranda, and Midget soon saw the little girl, in a big rocking chair not far away.

“May I go over and speak to her, Mother?” she said.

“Why, yes, Midget, if you like.  She looks like a nice child.  Run along.”

So Midget went over and took the next rocking chair, for there were many chairs, ranged in long rows.

“I came over to talk to you,” she said; “I saw you dance last night, and I think you do dance lovely.”

“Do you?” said the little girl.  She seemed diffident, but pleased at Marjorie’s words.  “You see, it was a Children’s Carnival, and Mamma let me dance.  I never danced in a place like that before, and I was a little scared at first.”