From reel to schottische and from schottische to reel, foursome and
eightsome, they kept him playing, ever asking for more, till the
gloaming passed into moonlight and still they were not done. The respite
came through Mandy, who, solid in weight and heavy of foot, had laboured
through the reels as often as she could get a partner, and at other
times had sat gazing in rapt devotion upon the piper.
"Whoop her up again, Scotty!" cried Perkins, when Cameron paused at the
end of a reel.
"Don't you do it!" said Mandy sharply, her deep voice booming through
the barn. "He's just tired of it, and I'm tired looking at him."
There was a shout of laughter which covered poor Mandy with wrathful
confusion.
"Good for you, Mandy," cried Perkins with a great guffaw. "You want some
music now, don't you? So do I. Come on, Danny."
"No, I don't," snapped Mandy, who could understand neither the previous
laugh nor that which greeted Perkins' sally.
"Allan," she said, sticking a little over the name, "is tired out, and
besides it's time we were going home."
"That's right, take him home, Mandy, and put the little dear to bed,"
said Perkins.
"You needn't be so smart, Joe Perkins," said Mandy angrily. "Anyway I'm
going home. I've got to be up early."
"Me too, Mandy," said Cameron, packing up his pipes, for his sympathy
had been roused for the girl who was championing him so bravely.
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