went away. When, presently, he asked her about a certain little
present which he had sent her a few months before, his voice grew very
tender, as also indeed did his eyes. It took considerable questioning
before she admitted that she had not parted with it. After this slight
admission he grew more chatty than ever, and failed to notice that her
manner was growing a little constrained.

Finally the floor was cleared, and Magloire Meloche, with much
dignity, took down the doughty fiddle, seated himself, cast his eyes
calmly over the expectant guests, and began slowly to tune up. From
the expression of his face, it was quite apparent that he had a keen
appreciation of the important part he had been called upon to occupy
in the evening's festivities. Besides constituting the entire
orchestra, he was floor manager, and called out the figures. The gusto
with which he cried out, "Swing your pardner! Now tak de hand all
round," etc., and beat time with his huge moccasined foot, added in no
inconsiderable degree to the excitement.

It being well known that Vital did not dance, no comments were passed
upon his absence. The poor fellow had tried to stay and watch the
dancing, but the pain at his heart had grown so, on seeing Zotique's
arm around her waist, that he really could not endure it, and so had
gone out to the little garden at the back of the house, and was
sitting on his favorite seat under a huge birch tree, whose thick
foliage the inquisitive moon could scarcely pierce.

Through the open kitchen door there floated to him at intervals the
playing of the fiddle, and the commanding tones of Magloire Meloche.

Finally the music ceased, and some of the dancers came out into the