William considered a moment, and then he said, "I think you had better
dance with them if they asks you; if you refuse, Sarah will say it was I
who put you up to it."

"Let's have another bottle," cried Ginger. "Come, what do you say, Mr.
Thomas?"

Mr. Thomas coughed, smiled, and said that Mr. Arthur wished to see him in
the hands of the police. However, he promised to drink his share. Two more
bottles were sent for, and, stimulated by the wine, the weights that would
probably be assigned to certain horses in the autumn handicap were
discussed. William was very proud of being admitted into such company, and
he listened, a cigar which he did not like between his teeth, and a glass
of champagne in his hand.... Suddenly the conversation was interrupted by
the cornet sounding the first phrase of a favourite waltz, and the tipsy
and the sober hastened away.

Neither Esther nor William knew how to waltz, but they tumbled round the
room, enjoying themselves immensely. In the polka and mazurka they got on
better; and there were quadrilles and lancers in which the gentlemen
joined, and all were gay and pleasant; even Sarah's usually sour face
glowed with cordiality when they joined hands and raced round the men
standing in the middle. In the chain they lost themselves as in a
labyrinth and found their partners unexpectedly. But the dance of the
evening was Sir Roger de Coverley, and Esther's usually sober little brain
evaporated in the folly of running up the room, then turning and running
backwards, getting into her place as best she could, and then starting
again. It always appeared to be her turn, and it was so sweet to see her
dear William, and such a strange excitement to run forward to meet young
Mr. Preston, to curtsey to him, and then run away; and this over and over