rooms are not to be kept quiet longer, even by hunches of bread and cake;
there is a general howl and wail, that rises yet higher than the scraping
of fiddles, and mothers rush from their partners to knock small heads
together, and cuff little nursemaids, and force the wailers down into
unoccupied corners of beds, under tables and behind boxes. In half an hour
every variety of childish snore is heard on all sides, and it has become
perilous to raise or set down a foot in any of the side-rooms lest a small
head or hand should be crushed.

Now too the busy feet have broken the solid coating of the floor, and a
cloud of fine dust arises, that makes a yellow halo round the candles, and
sets asthmatic people coughing, and grows denser, till to recognise any one
on the opposite side of the room becomes impossible, and a partner's face
is seen through a yellow mist.

At twelve o'clock the bride is led to the marriage-chamber and undressed;
the lights are blown out, and the bridegroom is brought to the door by the
best man, who gives him the key; then the door is shut and locked, and the
revels rise higher than ever. There is no thought of sleep till morning,
and no unoccupied spot where sleep may be found.

It was at this stage of the proceedings on the night of Tant Sannie's
wedding that Lyndall sat near the doorway in one of the side-rooms, to
watch the dancers as they appeared and disappeared in the yellow cloud of
dust. Gregory sat moodily in a corner of the large dancing-room. His
little betrothed touched his arm.

"I wish you would go and ask Lyndall to dance with you," she said; "she
must be so tired; she has sat still the whole evening."