Meanwhile, with a nod to one a smile to another and a word to a third,
the young heir and his party passed down the whole length of the room,
and retired through an upper door. As soon as they were gone the negro
fiddlers, six in number, led by Jovial, entered, took their seats, tuned
their instruments, and struck up a lively reel.

There was an, immediate stir; the rustic beaus sought their belles, and
sets were quickly formed.

A long, lanky, stooping young man, with a pale, care-worn face and
grayish hair, and dressed in a homespun jacket and trousers, came up to
the sisters.

"Dance, Hannah?" he inquired.

"No, thank you, Reuben; take Nora out--she would like to."

"Dance, Nora?" said Reuben Gray, turning obediently to the younger
sister.

"Set you up with it, after asking Hannah first, right before my very
eyes. I'm not a-going to take anybody's cast-offs, Mr. Reuben!"

"I hope you are not angry with, me for that, Nora? It was natural I
should prefer to dance with your sister. I belong to her like, you know.
Don't be mad with me," said Reuben meekly.

"Nonsense, Rue! you know I was joking. Make Hannah dance; it will do her
good; she mopes too much," laughed Nora.