I think I had never felt my deficiency in dancing until that moment.  But Miss Thorn took her aunt’s hand affectionately in hers.

“My dear Aunt Maria,” said she, “I would not dance to-night if there were twenty to choose from.  I should like nothing better than to look on with these two.  We are the best of friends already,” she added, turning towards us, “are we not?”

“We are indeed,” we hastened to assure her.

Mrs. Cooke smiled.

“You should have been a man, Marian,” she said as they went upstairs together.

We made our way to the galleried porch and sat down, there being a lull in the figures just then.  We each took out a cigar and lighted a match; and then looked across at the other.  We solemnly blew our matches out.

“Perhaps she doesn’t like smoke,” said Farrar, voicing the sentiment.

“Perhaps not,” said I.

Silence.

“I wonder how she will get along with the Ten?” I queried.

“Better than with us,” he answered in his usual strain.  “They’re trained.”

“Or with Allen?” I added irresistibly.

“Women are all alike,” said Farrar.

At this juncture Miss Thorn herself appeared at the end of the gallery, her shoulders wrapped in a gray cape trimmed with fur.  She stood regarding us with some amusement as we rose to receive her.

“Light your cigars and be sensible,” said she, “or I shall go in.”

We obeyed.  The three of us turned to the window to watch the figure, the music of which was just beginning.  Mr. Cooke, with the air of an English squire at his own hunt ball, was strutting contentedly up and down one end of the room, now pausing to exchange a few hearty words with some Presbyterian matron from Asquith, now to congratulate Mr. Trevor on the appearance of his daughter.  Lined against the opposite wall were the Celebrity and his ten red-coated followers, just rising for the figure.  It was very plain that Miss Trevor was radiantly happy; she was easily the handsomest girl in the room, and I could not help philosophizing when I saw her looking up into the Celebrity’s eyes upon the seeming inconsistency of nature, who has armed and warned woman against all but her most dangerous enemy.

And then a curious thing happened.  The Celebrity, as if moved by a sudden uncontrollable impulse, raised his eyes until they rested on the window in which we were.  Although his dancing was perfect, he lost the step without apparent cause, his expression changed, and for the moment he seemed to be utterly confused.  But only for the moment; in a trice he had caught the time again and swept Miss Trevor rapidly down the room and out of sight.  I looked instinctively at the girl beside me.  She had thrown her head forward, and in the streaming light I saw that her lips were parted in a smile.

I resolved upon a stroke.

“Mr. Allen,” I remarked, “leads admirably.”