At last came the turn of Quincy and his little partner, whose name was unknown to him.  He observed the grace with which she went through the march, and when the dance came be wished he could have stood still and watched her.  Instead, he entered with his whole soul into the dance, and at its conclusion he was astonished to hear the burst of applause and cheers that fell upon his ears.

“Come along!” said his partner, and taking him by the hand she drew him back through the arch, and the dance was repeated.

Three times in succession was this done in response to enthusiastic applause, and Quincy was beginning to think that he would soon fall in his tracks.  He had no idea that any such fate would befall his partner, for she seemed equal to an indefinite number of repetitions.

But, as has been said before, to all good things an end must come at last, and when the old-fashioned Connecticut clock on the mantelpiece clanged out the midnight hour, as if by magic a hush came over the company and the jollities came to an end.  Then followed a rush for capes, and coats, and jackets, and shawls, and hats.  Then came good-byes and good-nights, and then the girls all kissed Huldy and her mother, wished them long life and happiness, while their escorts stood quietly by thinking of the pleasant homeward trips, and knowing in their hearts that they should treasure more the pressure of the hand or the single good-night kiss yet to come than they did the surprise party kisses that had been theirs during the evening.

Mrs. Mason and ’Zekiel had prepared Alice for her homeward trip.  Quincy took occasion to seek out his partner in the reel to say good night, and as he shook hands with her he said, “Would you consider me rude if I asked your name and who taught you to dance?”

“Oh! no,” she replied; “my name is Bessie Chisholm.  I teach the dancing school at Eastborough Centre, and Mr. Stiles always plays for me.”

“Is he going to see you home to-night?” asked Quincy.

“Oh! no,” said she; “I came with my brother.  Here, Sylvester,” cried she, and a smart-looking, country fellow, apparently about twenty-one years of age, came towards them.  “I’m ready,” said Bessie to him, and then, turning to Quincy, “Mr. Sawyer, make you acquainted with my brother, Sylvester Chisholm.”

“Ah, you know my name,” said Quincy.

“I guess everybody in Eastborough knows who you are,” retorted she with a toss of her head, as she took her brother’s arm and walked away.

Hiram had brought ’round the Pettengill sleigh from the barn.  ’Zekiel, Alice, Quincy, and Mandy were the last of the party to leave.  Quincy took his old place beside Alice, while Mandy sat on the front seat with ’Zekiel.

It was a beautiful moonlight night and the ride home was a most enjoyable one.

“I am sorry,” said Quincy to Alice, “that you could not take part in more of the games.  I enjoyed them very much.”