It's the time of the first flowers.

Let's dance--no, no, never mind the Cure to-night! He will not mind.

I'll settle it with him.
We'll dance the gay quadrille." He caught the hands of the two youngest girls present, and nodded at the fiddler, who at once began to tune his violin afresh.

One of the joyous young girls, however, began to plead with him.
"Ah, no, let us dance, but at the last--not yet, M'sieu' Jean Jacques! There is Zoe's song, we must have that, and then we must have charades.
Here is M'sieu' Fynes--he can make splendid charades for us.

Then the dance at the last--ah, yes, yes, M'sieu' Jean Jacques! Let it be like that.