"I see you've been working virtuously hard," put in Gail pleasantly, sauntering up. "Now, _I_ gave up being noble-hearted to the uninteresting some time ago. There's very little in it. I collected a suitor or so early in the evening, and we've been telling each other what we really thought of all the worst guests, in the little room off. You ought to hear John's description of--" "She shan't--it's not for your young ears," said Clarence possessively from where he stood, a little behind Gail. Gail had three men with her--Clarence, John, and a slim youth who looked younger than he proved to be, and who answered to the name of Tiddy. All Joy's feelings of triumph and innocent satisfaction in having won the liking of Mrs. Hewitt's guests faded. She felt as Gail had made her feel before--foolishly good and ridiculously young and altogether unsuccessful in life. For a moment the mood held her in a very crushed state of mind: then she caught Clarence's eyes fixed upon her with a look of amused admiration. It spurred her. "I've been doing my duty by my future lord and master," she said lightly. "But now you put it that way, he doesn't sound like a worthy cause a bit." The men laughed, though Joy's words hadn't sounded particularly witty to herself. "I'm going to abjure duty now," she went on hurriedly. "The orchestra's playing that thing people can dance me to----" She held her hand and arm gracefully high, in the old minuet pose, and laughed up at Clarence. _He_ wasn't supposed to be her lover, and yet he saw through Gail when John didn't---- "By Jove, I can do the minuet!" he said eagerly. "Can you, Miss Joy?" She smiled and nodded. _"Grandma told me all about it, Taught me so I could not doubt it,"_ she sang softly. "We'll do it--we'll do it for the happy villagers!" proclaimed Clarence. "Here, Tiddy, go cut a girl out of the herd, and find Harrington, too. We're the bell-cows. All you others have to do is to obediently follow us--the men follow me and the women tag around after Miss Joy--which last seems wrong, but can't be helped." "Not at all," said John amiably. "Far be it from me to seem to steal your thunder, Rutherford, but I, too, was in the village pageant last year, and I minuet excellently. All my grateful patients said so. You know, if you led off, they might take you for the man who's going to marry Miss Havenith."