Philip had effaced, as well as he could, the stains of travel, had arrayed himself in a clean shirt and collar, brushed his hair neatly, and, being naturally a very good-looking boy, appeared to very good advantage, though he certainly did look young.

As he walked through the hall, with his violin under his arm, he attracted the attention of all, it having been already made known that in place of the veteran Paul Beck—­a man of fifty or more—­an unknown boy would furnish the music for the evening.

Philip could not avoid hearing some of the remarks which his appearance excited.  “What! that little runt play the fiddle?” said one countrified young man, in a short-waisted blue coat, and tow-colored hair, plastered down on either side of his head with tallow.  “I don’t believe he can play any more than I can.”

“I hope he can,” retained his partner—­a plump, red-cheeked, young farmer’s daughter.  “He’s very good-looking, anyhow.”

“He isn’t anything to brag of,” said her partner jealously.

“Oh, how can you say so, Jedidiah.  I See what beautiful black hair and eyes he’s got, and such a lovely color on his cheeks!”

Now, Jedidiah, in appearance, was just the reverse of Philip.  His hair, as already stated, was tow-color, his face was tanned, and the color rather resembled brick-dust than the deep red of our hero’s cheeks.

His partner was a rustic flirt, and he was disposed to be jealous, not being certain how far she favored him.  He, therefore, took offense at his partner’s admiration of the young fiddler.

“He looks very common to me,” said Jedidiah pettishly.  “You’ve got a strange taste, Maria.”

“Perhaps I have, and perhaps I haven’t,” retorted Maria, tossing her head.

“Perhaps you’re in love with him?” continued Jedidiah, in a tone meant to be sarcastic.

“I should be if he was a little older,” said the young lady, rather enjoying her lover’s displeasure.

“I don’t believe he can play at all,” growled Jedidiah.  “He’s fooled Abner Webb, like as not.  It’s a pity we couldn’t have Paul Beck.”

“Very likely he can play better than Paul Beck,” said Maria—­not because she thought so, but because she knew it would tease her partner.

“Don’t be a fool, Maria,” said Jedidiah, scarcely conscious of the impoliteness of his speech.

The young lady, however, resented it at once.

“I am sure you are very polite, Mr. Jedidiah Burbank—­so polite that I think you had better find another partner!”

“Excuse me, Maria,” said Jedidiah hastily, alarmed at the prospect of being left without a partner.  “Of course, I didn’t mean anything.”

“If you didn’t mean it, what made you say it?” retorted Maria, tossing her head.  “I ain’t used to being called a fool.  I never knew a gentleman to make such a remark to a lady.  I think you’d better find some other partner.”