Lest something unusual in their look or behavior should excite the
suspicions of their companions, make them the focus of inquisitive
observation and whispered remark, the diplomate passed again into
the hall, sweeping along in advance of them when they deserted their
curtained recess, and would have joined the rest of the company.

"Are we to have no dancing this evening?" she said, in hospitable
solicitude. "It wants an hour yet of supper-time. The exercise will
do you all good, particularly the young ladies, who have not stirred
beyond the piazzas to-day. I have been waiting for an invitation to
play for you, but my desire for your welfare has overcome native
humility. Will you accept my services as your musician?"

The suggestion was acceded to by acclamation, and while one
gentleman led her to the grand piano which stood between the front
windows of the drawing-room, and another opened a music-book which
she named, a set was quickly formed in the long apartment, the
soberer portion of the crowd ranging themselves along the walls as
lookers-on.

Mrs. Aylett was a proficient in dance-music. She never volunteered
to perform that which she was not conscious of doing well. She had
occasionally taken the floor for a single quadrille, to oblige a
favored guest--always a middle-aged or elderly gentleman--or moved
through a cotillion with ease and spirit as partner to her husband,
but she declined dancing, as a rule; was altogether indifferent to
the amusement, while she delighted to oblige her friends by playing
for them whenever and as long as they required her aid. Without
saying, in so many words, that she disapproved of the waltz for