"That is with Major Fitch and the next with Judge Middleton--that's the Lancers--then the Virgina Reel with old Captain Crump. I'm very sorry, but I believe I am booked up until the intermission, which I hope means supper." "You can't mean you are going to give up the whole evening to those old fellows. Miss Buck, Judith! Yes, I have a perfect right to call you Judith. You are my cousin. I--I--just found it out the other day. In fact, I am your nearest male relative," Jeff said whimsically, "and as such I forbid you to spend the whole evening wasting your sweetness on the old men. They may be very fine old chaps, but--" "May be! But! There is no maybe and no but about it. They are the loveliest old men in the world. You got to be a cousin too suddenly, Mr. Bucknor. Kinship is something deeper than a sudden flare. The old men are my fairy godfathers and that is closer than forty-eleventh cousins. Why, they even gave me my lovely dress so I could come to the ball. No, Mr. Barnes, I haven't forgotten," she said, tucking her hand in the old man's arm as he came up to claim her promise. She looked over her shoulder and laughed at Jeff Bucknor. "Good-bye, Cousin!" she called. Jeff moodily sought refuge behind Cousin Ann's draperies. He knew he was behaving rudely, not to dance with the girls of the house party. He was sure Mildred and Nan would berate him, but he felt as though there were weights on his feet. Miss Ann graciously made room for him. "A very charming ball, Cousin," she said. "Yes!" "Why are you not dancing?" "Nobody to dance with--unless you will favor me," he added gallantly. "No, my dear cousin, I have danced once to-night and I am afraid I had better not venture again. I am very fatigued from the unwonted exertion." Indeed, the old lady did look tired, although very happy and contented. "Why do you not endeavor to engage my charming vis-a-vis? I see she is not dancing either." "Humph! She has given me to understand she preferred talking to old Pete Barnes to dancing with me. She's a strange girl, Cousin Ann, and I can't make her out." At least Jeff had the satisfaction of seeing Judith refuse to dance with Tom Harbison. That young man had crossed the floor with his accustomed assurance, had bowed low in front of Judith and begged her to favor him, even taking her by the hand and endeavoring to draw her from her chair, but she had refused him in short order. Judith danced and danced with the old men. Whatever the step they decided to take the girl followed. She was a born dancer and, after a few paces, could adapt herself to any partner. There were other young men besides Jeff and Tom who sought her hand in the dance, but she was always engaged to some one of the ten old men. The only chance for the young ones was for the old ones to fall by the wayside, which they did occasionally when their old legs refused to carry them farther. "I'd break in on them if they weren't so old," declared one young farmer.