The Waterbury Democrat., 1938-04-19
CHAPTER VIII

Down in her cabin a pleasant sur- prise greeted Joyce's eyes. In the center of the room, on a dress hanger hooked through the fan, was her white dress, spotless and pressed as if 1t had never known drop of water.
 She tried the dress on, praying that it had not shrunk. But no; if there was any shrinkage, the stewardess had stretched it out. It fitted smoothly as ever. No one would ever guess that it had spent many hours in the Bermuda har- bor.
 So Joyce went up to dinner with a light heart, proof against Mrs. Porter's frigid charm and Isobeps sophisticated pout.
 Dick, she noticed, was develop ing nasty cold, sneezing and shilling and gasping, yet all the while trying to persuade the doc tor that he never had cold in his life-not real cold.
 But before the meal was over he left the dining room, taking his sneezes with him so that the oA1ers might enjoy their own din- ner in quiet. As long as he sat there, they waited eXpectantly, holding their breath, for each new outbreak.
 So it was MT. Gregory who took Joyce up to the dance on deck, and perhaps, she decided, that was as it should be because she was wearing his flowers.
 The section just behind the smoking room, used in the day for some of the deck games, was set aside tonight for the captains dance. Bright Japanese lanterns, fitted with electric lights, were strung from the ships rigging, and as they swung in the breeze they reflected an ever-changing atmosphere of colorful charm. Fantastic and ridiculous paper hats were provided for everybody, and high above the center of the floor, enormous punches of bright balloons appeared as if from mo- where, to be dropped at sudden intervals and frivolously dis parsed.
 After the first dance, Joyce and MT. Gregory found them selves the center of lively young group - none of whom they had met formally, yet who became in the short space of five minutes Tom" and Bill" and Grace" and Anne" old friends whom they might have known from childhood. Even MT. Gregory, clinging to a false dignity, became Greg" because he would not ad- init, perhaps, that his name was Hilary" It was an evening for fun, and everybody made the most of it.
 Joyce regretted that Dick was not on Deck to share it, but she did not lack dancing partners. After MT. Gregory there was Tom, and then Bill, and presently her companion of the first day in Ber- muda, MT. Roberts. And Captain Boyer, too, came forward to claim a dance with this bright-eyed girl who smiled so easily.
 "The only trouble" he remarked gallantly, as he proved himself a interchangeable master of the waltz, lis that there are so many lovely young ladies that we cant dance with all of them
 Joyce laughed, enjoying the moment. Why not try Paul Jones?" she suggested carelessly. "Youd get around more."
 "A Paul Jones?" Captain Boyer searched his memory for the meaning of it. Then recalling, he added brightly: "Of course. That's the dance where we all change partners, isn't it? Why didn't l think of it before?"
 As the dance ended, he went over and made the suggestion to the orchestra leader before re- turning Joyce to her table.
 The music for the Paul Jones was more lively, lending that ele- ment of the old-fashioned square dance, with everybody joining hands-all-round. It induced many of the older couples, not so sure of the latest steps, to try turn of it. The floor was quickly crowded.
 Gaily the orchestra leader blew a whistle and called the changes; "Single line, now, and MARCH! Hands on shoulders" Ladies right, gentlemen left" Find your partners"
 Faster and faster the music was stepped up; more and more hilari- ous became the dancing. Joyce went through the changes, her