"Yes, yes; she _is_ a good girl, as her mother says," was frequently
repeated by Uncle Archer during the day, when he would think of
Grace.

Evening came, and young and old began to gather in the parlours. The
minister was introduced to one and another, as they arrived, and was
much gratified with the respect and attention shown to him by all.
Grace soon drew around him three or four of her young friends, who
listened to what he had to say with an interest that gratified his
feelings. Nothing had been said to Grace of her uncle's prejudice
against dancing; she was, therefore, no little surprised to see the
sudden change in his manner, when she said to a young lady in the
group around him--

"Come! you must play some cotillions for us. We're going to have a
dance."

After going with the young lady to the piano, and opening it for
her, Grace went back to her uncle, whose face she found deeply
clouded.

"A'n't you well, uncle?" she asked, affectionately.

"Oh yes, child, I am well enough in body," was replied.

"But something troubles you, uncle--what is it?"

By this time a number of couples were on the floor, and at the
moment, a young man came up to Grace, and said--