Chapter 3 - Page 2

invitation?'

Margery looked at the moon. 'No one who can dance,' she said;
adding, with hesitation, 'I was thinking that perhaps--'

'But, my dear Margery,' he said, stopping her, as if he half-divined
what her simple dream of a cavalier had been; 'it is very odd that
you can think of nothing else than going to a Yeomanry Ball. Think
again. You are sure there is nothing else?'

'Quite sure, sir,' she decisively answered. At first nobody would
have noticed in that pretty young face any sign of decision; yet it
was discoverable. The mouth, though soft, was firm in line; the
eyebrows were distinct, and extended near to each other. 'I have
thought of it all day,' she continued, sadly. 'Still, sir, if you
are sorry you offered me anything, I can let you off.'

'Sorry?--Certainly not, Margery,' be said, rather nettled. 'I'll
show you that whatever hopes I have raised in your breast I am
honourable enough to gratify. If it lies in my power,' he added with
sudden firmness, 'you SHALL go to the Yeomanry Ball. In what
building is it to be held?'

'In the Assembly Rooms.'

'And would you be likely to be recognized there? Do you know many
people?'

'Not many, sir. None, I may say. I know nobody who goes to balls.'

'Ah, well; you must go, since you wish it; and if there is no other
way of getting over the difficulty of having nobody to take you, I'll
take you myself. Would you like me to do so? I can dance.'

'O, yes, sir; I know that, and I thought you might offer to do it.
But would you bring me back again?'

'Of course I'll bring you back. But, by-the-bye, can YOU dance?'

'Yes.'

'What?'

'Reels, and jigs, and country-dances like the New-Rigged-Ship, and
Follow-my-Lover, and Haste-to-the-Wedding, and the College Hornpipe,
and the Favourite Quickstep, and Captain White's dance.'

'A very good list--a very good! but unluckily I fear they don't dance
any of those now. But if you have the instinct we may soon cure your
ignorance. Let me see you dance a moment.'

She stood out into the garden-path, the stile being still between
them, and seizing a side of her skirt with each hand, performed the
movements which are even yet far from uncommon in the dances of the
villagers of merry England. But her motions, though graceful, were
not precisely those which appear in the figures of a modern ball-
room.

'Well, my good friend, it is a very pretty sight,' he said, warming
up to the proceedings. 'But you dance too well--you dance all over
your person--and that's too thorough a way for the present day. I
should say it was exactly how they danced in the time of your poet
Chaucer; but as people don't dance like it now, we must consider.