About eight o'clock an orchestra shows up and cuts loose with music in the ball-room, mostly classic stuff like the "Spring Song" and handfuls plucked from "Aïda." We slips in and listens. Then the leader gets his eye on us and turns on a fox-trot.
"Looks like they was waitin' for us to start something," says I. "Let's."
We'd gone around three or four times when Vee balks. About twenty-five old ladies, with a sprinklin' of white-whiskered old codgers, had filed in and was watchin' us solemn and critical from the side-lines. Some was squintin' disapprovin' through their lorgnettes, and I noticed a few whisperin' to each other. Vee quits right in the middle of a reverse.
"Do they think we are giving an exhibition?" she pouts.
"Maybe we're breakin' some of the rules and by-laws," says I. "Anyway, I think we ought to beat it before they call in the high sheriff."
Next day it was just the same. We was out part of the time, indulgin' in walks and sleigh rides; but nobody seemed to see us, goin' or comin'. And I begun to get good and sore.
"Nice place, this," says I to Vee, as we trails in to dinner that evenin'. "Almost as sociable as the Grand Central station."
Vee tries to explain that it's always like this in these exclusive little all-the-year-round joints where about the same crowd of people come every season.
"Then you have to be born in the house to be a reg'lar person, I suppose?" says I.
Well, it's about then I notices this classy young couple who are makin' their way across the dinin'-room, bein' hailed right and left. And next thing I know, the young lady gets her eye on Vee, stops to take another look, then rushes over and gives her the fond clinch from behind.
"Whatever are you doing up----" And then Judith gets wise to me sittin' opposite. "Oh!" says she.
"It only happened the other night," says she. "This is Mr. Ballard, Judith. And you?"
"Oh, ages ago--last spring," says Judith. "Bert, come here."
It's a case of old boardin'-school friends who'd lost track of each other. Quite a stunner, young Mrs. Nixon is, too, and Bert is a good match for her. The two girls hold quite a reunion, with us men standin' around lookin' foolish.
"We're living in Springfield, you know," goes on Judith, "where Bert is helping to build another munition plant. Just ran up to spend the week-end with Auntie. You've met her, of course?"