It was Eloise who spoke. Her eyes told me that she had been waiting, and a brave lingering smile went with her words. There were little tired, hard lines around her sweet mouth. She looked tired but game, as when, in a long day’s hunt after quail and the route home was long, and our luck nil, it needed a good heart to smile. She stood with Goff in the reception room, as though she were Countess of Carfax already. The hand I held trembled for the first time in mine. "Glad to see you back, Jack," said Goff, his face aglow with the pride he felt. "Where have you been, Jack? I thought you were never coming to see me again?" Eloise asked. She gradually moved away with me from the crowd in the center of the room until we stood apart in the large bay window. "Come," I said teasingly, "you have got away from your lord; he will miss you." It was not fun to her. Her face flushed, then paled. "Jack, you must dance with me once to-night—our last dance. I have something to tell you then." "I don’t think you ought to punish me any more than you have already, Eloise," I said frankly. "Maybe I am punishing myself more," she said softly. "Eloise, Eloise—" But she had turned and was receiving the newly arrived and merry crowd behind us. My Aunt held to some customs which she permitted none of the innovations of society to alter. One was that her balls must open with the Virginia Reel. I saw her coming and understood. "Jack," she nodded, commandingly, "we are ready, you and Eloise open it up." Eloise stood behind her smiling. She placed both her hands in mine and together we glided to the head of the line. We stood holding hands and waiting for the music. Coming closer, my Aunt smiled and whispered, "I wish you two children could see what a fine pair you make. Pedigree counts even in a Virginia Reel, and you two were bred for it." We both laughed. "Look into that mirror across yonder," she laughed, "and see how much better I am at pairing off people than they are themselves." We glanced across and saw Goff and a fat lady from town. "They are matched perfectly," said my Aunt Lucretia, "both grass-fed." "Please don’t, Aunt Lucretia," said Eloise, "that isn’t fair. You are trying your best to keep me from being a countess." Then she added suddenly, "Oh, Jack, tell me about Satan. You don’t know how I’ve missed him. Where have you two been?" "In the wood together. No—n-o—you shall never have him, such a horse—such a comrade." Eloise pouted. "You’ll see. Why Colonel Goff has promised I shall take him to England with me. And Jack—how about his exercise? My heart is set on beating him in that hurdle race, and Aunt Lucretia would have apoplexy if she lost that bet."