And so saying, I stepped up to Jane Rogers, and asked her to dance with me. She blushed so dreadfully that, for a moment, I was almost sorry I had asked her. But she put her hand in mine at once; and if she was a little clumsy, she yet danced very naturally, and I had the satisfaction of feeling that I had an honest girl near me, who I knew was friendly to me in her heart. But to see the faces of the people! While I had been talking, Old Rogers had been drinking in every word. To him it was milk and strong meat in one. But now his face shone with a father’s gratification besides. And Richard’s face was glowing too. Even old Brownrigg looked with a curious interest upon us, I thought. Meantime Dr Duncan was dancing with one of his own patients, old Mrs Trotter, to whose wants he ministered far more from his table than his surgery. I have known that man, hearing of a case of want from his servant, send the fowl he was about to dine upon, untouched, to those whose necessity was greater than his. And Mr Boulderstone had taken out old Mrs Rogers; and young Brownrigg had taken Mary Weir. Thomas Weir did not dance at all, but looked on kindly. “Why don’t you dance, Old Rogers?” I said, as I placed his daughter in a seat beside him. “Did your honour ever see an elephant go up the futtock-shrouds?” “No. I never did.” “I thought you must, sir, to ask me why I don’t dance. You won’t take my fun ill, sir? I’m an old man-o’-war’s man, you know, sir.” “I should have thought, Rogers, that you would have known better by this time, than make such an apology to ME.” “God bless you, sir. An old man’s safe with you—or a young lass, either, sir,” he added, turning with a smile to his daughter. I turned, and addressed Mr Boulderstone. “I am greatly obliged to you, Mr Boulderstone, for the help you have given me this evening. I’ve seen you talking to everybody, just as if you had to entertain them all.” “I hope I haven’t taken too much upon me. But the fact is, somehow or other, I don’t know how, I got into the spirit of it.” “You got into the spirit of it because you wanted to help me, and I thank you heartily.” “Well, I thought it wasn’t a time to mind one’s peas and cues exactly. And really it’s wonderful how one gets on without them. I hate formality myself.” The dear fellow was the most formal man I had ever met. “Why don’t you dance, Mr Brownrigg?” “Who’d care to dance with me, sir? I don’t care to dance with an old woman; and a young woman won’t care to dance with me.” “I’ll find you a partner, if you will put yourself in my hands.” “I don’t mind trusting myself to you, sir.”