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“There is going to be a time in the hall,” said the landlord, who came hospitably out to join him. “The folks are going to have a dance. The proceeds will be applied to buying a bell for the new schoolhouse. They’d be pleased if you felt like stepping over; there has been a considerable number glad to hear you thought of coming down. I ain’t an East Rodney man myself, but I’ve often heard of your residin’ here some years ago. Our folks is makin’ the ice cream for the occasion,” he added significantly, and Mr. Aldis nodded and smiled in acknowledgment. He had meant to go out and see the Gales, if the boat had only got in in season; but boats are unpunctual in their ways, and the James Madison had been unexpectedly signaled by one little landing and settlement after another. He remembered that a great many young people were on board when they arrived, and now they appeared again, coming along the street and disappearing at the steep stairway opposite. The lighted windows were full of heads already, and there were now and then preliminary exercises upon a violin. Mr. Aldis had grown old enough to be obliged to sit and think it over about going to a ball; the day had passed when there would have been no question; but when he had finished his cigar he crossed the street, and only stopped before the lighted store window to find a proper bank bill for the doorkeeper. Then he ran up the stairs to the hall, as if he were the Tom Aldis of old. It was an embarrassing moment as he entered the low, hot room, and the young people stared at him suspiciously; but there were also elderly people scattered about who were meekly curious and interested, and one of these got clumsily upon his feet and hastened to grasp the handsome stranger by the hand.

“Nancy heard you was coming,” said Mr. Gale delightedly. “She expected I should see you here, if you was just the same kind of a man you used to be. Come let’s set right down, folks is crowding in; there may be more to set than there is to dance.”

“How is Nancy, isn’t she coming?” asked Tom, feeling the years tumble off his shoulders.

“Well as usual, poor creatur,” replied the old father, with a look of surprise. “No, no; she can’t go nowhere.”

At that moment the orchestra struck up a military march with so much energy that further conversation was impossible. Near them was an awkward-looking young fellow, with shoulders too broad for his height, and a general look of chunkiness and dullness. Presently he rose and crossed the room, and made a bow to his chosen partner that most courtiers might have envied. It was a bow of grace and dignity.

“Pretty well done!” said Tom Aldis aloud.

Mr. Gale was beaming with smiles, and keeping time to the music with his foot and hand. “Nancy done it,” he announced proudly, speaking close to his companion’s ear. “That boy give her a sight o’ difficulty; he used to want to learn, but ‘long at the first he’d turn red as fire if he much as met a sheep in a pastur’. The last time I see him on the floor I went home an’ told her he done as well as any. You can see for yourself, now they’re all a-movin’.”

The fresh southerly breeze came wafting into the hall and making the lamps flare. If Tom turned his head, he could see the lights out in the bay, of vessels that had put in for the night. Old Mr. Gale was not disposed for conversation so long as the march lasted, and when it was over a frisky-looking middle-aged person accosted Mr. Aldis with the undimmed friendliness of their youth; and he took her out, as behoved him, for the Lancers quadrille. From her he learned that Nancy had been for many years a helpless invalid; and when their dance was over he returned to sit out the next one with Mr. Gale, who had recovered a little by this time from the excitement of the occasion, and was eager to talk about Nancy’s troubles, but still more about her gifts and activities. After a while they adjourned to the hotel piazza in company, and the old man grew still more eloquent over a cigar. He had not changed much since Tom’s residence in the family; in fact, the flight of seventeen years had made but little difference in his durable complexion or the tough frame which had been early seasoned by wind and weather.