Joe nodded and with that they came abreast of the curtained windows and stood still for a second to gather up their courage. Then Mrs. Dustin very quietly opened the door and stepped in with Joe. She stood smiling at the door and at sight of her the noise stopped as if by magic. Every child there knew the lovely, blue-eyed little mother of Peter Dustin. The only one who did not know her was the proprietor standing in stupid wonder behind his counter. But she pretended not to see his astonishment as she made her laughing explanations. "We got lonesome, Joe and I. You know these first autumn nights do chill us older folks a bit and make us sad. We want bright fires and lots of children racketing around to keep us from feeling old and frightened. And I guess the children get the blues from us for I notice that that's just the time they want to get off by themselves for a good time. We're all trying to forget that the year is dying, I expect, and we're crowding together to cheer each other up. That's what's making the streets so lonely to-night. As I came along I felt so bad that I thought I'd just drop in on Joe and get cheered up with the children. They're usually there. But Joe was standing on his doorstep as lonely as I was. He was missing the children too. We saw your light and heard the children laughing, and we just thought we'd come in and see if we couldn't feel young again. We didn't come in to spoil your fun, so just you go on with it. Joe and I'll watch and maybe join in. You were dancing, weren't you, Mollie?" Mrs. Dustin asked this of a little russet-haired girl of fourteen who in her sudden amazement at the visitors was still standing in the middle of the floor with her arms about Peter, who had a mouth organ in his mouth. She was a graceful little thing and she had been teaching Peter how to dance. But now she stood stiff with fright and embarrassment. "Why, don't be afraid of my mother, Mollie," Peter said gently, for he himself was in no way frightened at his mother's appearance. So when Mrs. Dustin repeated her question, Mollie said shyly: "Yes, ma'am, we were trying to dance." "Bless me," laughed Mrs. Dustin. "Why, I never realized that Peter was old enough to want to dance. You should have told me, Peter Boy. Why, you should have all told me, because," she smiled gloriously at them all, "because I used to be the star dancer twenty-five years ago. Wasn't I, Joe?" "You sure were," Joe answered promptly. His face still looked a little queer and his voice was not quite steady but he was bravely following the wise little woman with the blue eyes. "Let me show you. Play something, Peter." Mrs. Dustin picked up Mollie and began to dance. And in exactly five turns about the room all the poetry, the joy of motion in Mollie caught fire and her little slim feet just fairly twinkled in happy abandonment.