Jo's face was triumphant as they met Leigh Shirley at the dining room door. "What's the next case on docket, Leigh?" Thaine asked, dropping Jo's arm. Jealousy has sharp eyes, but even jealousy could hardly have found fault with the friendly and indifferent look on Thaine's face. "Why, it's my first with you, Leigh. Who's your partner, Jo?" Thaine continued. Two or three young men claimed the honor, and the music began. "Mrs. Aydelot, Thaine has asked me to stay all night," Jo said, as the figures were forming. "It will please us all," Virginia said graciously, and Jo tripped away. When the strains of music for the last dance began Jo looked for Thaine, but he was nowhere to be found. She waited impatiently and the angry glitter in her eyes was not unbecoming her imperious air. Bo Peep did not wait long, for he was getting tired. Half a dozen young men rushed toward Jo as she stood alone. But Todd Stewart let no opportunity escape him. And the dance began. A minute later Thaine came in with Leigh Shirley. Smiling a challenge at Todd, he caught Leigh's hand and swung into the crowd on the floor. The older guests were already gone. The music trailed off into a weird, rippling rhythm, with young hearts beating time to its melody and young feet keeping step to its measure. Then the tired, happy company broke into groups. Good-bys and good wishes were given again and again, and the party was over. The couples took their way up or down the old Grass River trail or out across the prairie by-roads, with the moon sailing serenely down the west. Everybody voted it the finest party ever given on Grass River. And nobody at all, except his mother and Jo Bennington, noticed that Thaine had not left Leigh Shirley's side from his first dance with her late in the evening until the time of the good-bys. As the guests were leaving Thaine turned to Jo, saying: "I'm sorry about that last dance, but I'll forgive Todd this last time. Rosie cut her hand on a glass tumbler she dropped and I was helping Leigh to tie it up when old Bo Peep started the music. Here's the girl I'm to take home. Got your draperies on already. The carriage waits and the black steed paws for us by the chicken yard gate. Good-night, gentle beings." And taking Leigh's arm, he led her away. "Gimpke is as awkward as a cow," Jo Bennington declared, "and too stupid to know what's said to her." But Rosie Gimpke, standing in the shadows of the darkened dining room, was not too stupid to understand what was said about her. And into her stolid brain came dreams that night of a fair face with soft golden brown hair and kindly eyes of deep, tender blue. Stupid as she was, the woman's instinct in her told her in her dreams that the handsome young son of her employer might not always look his thoughts nor dance earliest and oftenest with the girl he liked best. But Rosie was dull and slept heavily and these things came to her sluggish brain only in fleeting dreams.