The curtain went up on the empty stage, and the orchestra played the air of the gavotte. The dancers entered, hands joined and held high, and marched in minuet step around and up and down the stage, crossing and recrossing, bowing, forming brief figures, instantly dissolved into the march. Then they took their places for the gavotte, and in the pause between the end of the march and its beginning the audience went quite wild with delight over the really beautiful picture. The orchestra sounded a few bars, and suddenly the sixteen dancers began to sing to the old French gavotte the words which Rob had written, beginning the dance at the same time. In breathless silence the audience watched and listened. The colours blended and contrasted, the girls flushed and dimpled, carrying their heads regally under their powdered hair, while the young men, not less gorgeous in their degree, led them forth with courtly bendings of their powdered heads, managing their swords and the laced hats which they carried with creditable grace and dignity. There could not have been a more beautiful picture. Faint, irrepressible applause broke out at intervals, quickly silenced that the audience might not lose one note, one lovely, gracious motion. But when it was ended the room was stormed with plaudits, unescapable demands for a repetition, which the dancers were not in the least reluctant to accord, when they were satisfied that the demand was sincere. There were many in the audience who were strangers to all the performers; several from New York whom only Hester knew slightly, but the majority were friends or familiar acquaintances of the dancers, and after the curtain had gone down they came forth in all their ancient splendour to mingle with the audience and to be congratulated. Rob went to Mr. and Mrs. Baldwin as straight as circumstances allowed her to go. Mr. Baldwin took her hands with the fatherly affection that he always showed her, almost equal to that which he gave to his own girl. "It was fine, Rob; really fine, a gavotte in colouring and execution worthy the old days of Daly's Theatre, and the dances he used to give us in 'Much Ado' and 'Twelfth Night.' You look like a dryad in your green, my Robin. And how really magnificent Prue is going to be! Hers is wonderful beauty for a girl of sixteen. I have a ward of mine here who says he never dreamed of such a girl. He wants to speak to Prue. Shall I take him over there?" "He is a nice boy, Mr. Baldwin?" asked Rob. "What a dragon of an elder sister--and only two years the elder!" laughed Mr. Baldwin. "Trust me, Rob, not to introduce any but nice boys to my Grey girls! This is not precisely a boy, though. He is twenty-four, and that is a great age compared to sixteen. He is still my ward, because I was to take charge of his property, by his father's will, until he was thirty. I'll go take him to Prue. Mr. Armstrong is here, and wants to see you."