Marley was standing with Lavinia near the door. He was trying to affect an ease; he knew by the way the other girls glanced at him now and then that they were speculating on his possibilities as a partner; he tried just then to look as if he were going to dance as all the other men were, yet he felt the necessity of confessing to Lavinia. "You know," he said contritely, "that I don't dance." She looked up, a disappointment springing to her eyes too quickly for her to conceal it. She was flushed with pleasure and excitement, and tapping her foot in time with the chords Payson and Gallard were trying on their instruments. Marley saw her surprise. "I ought not to have come," he said; "I've no business here." The look of disappointment in Lavinia's eyes had gone, and in its place was now an expression of sympathy. "It makes no difference," she said. And then she added in a low voice: "I'll not dance either; there are too many of us girls anyway." "Oh, don't let me keep you from it," said Marley, and yet a joy was shining in his eyes. She turned away and blushed. "I'll give you all my dances," she said; "we can sit them out." "But it won't be any fun for you," protested Marley. And just then Lawrence came up. "Say, Glenn," he said, "if you don't want to dance I'll take Lavinia for the first number." The guitar and mandolin, after a long preliminary strumming to get themselves in tune, suddenly burst into _The Georgia Campmeeting_, and the couples were instantly springing across the floor. "Come on, Vine," said Lawrence, his fingers twitching. And Lavinia, eager, trembling, alive, casting one last glance at Marley, said "Just this one!" and went whirling away with Lawrence. Marley moved aside, awkwardly, when the couples, sweeping in a long oval stream around the little room, whirled past him. Lavinia danced with a grace that almost hurt him; she was laughing as she looked up into Lawrence's face, talking to him as they danced. Marley felt a gloom, almost a rage, settle on him. He looked up and down the room. At the farther end, through the door by which the musicians sat swinging their feet over their knees in time to the tune they played, he could see the man who kept the grounds at the lake, looking on at the dance; his wife was with him, and they smiled contentedly at the joy of the young people.