Now then, do you wonder that the poor fellow looks anxious, or that I feel it my duty as a good actor to look anxious too?
I have promised not to describe the whole minuet to you, but I must mention one figure in it of which I am particularly fond. In this you rejoin your partner after a long absence, and you have once more her supporting hand to hold you up. For some hours previously you have been alone in the wild and undulating open, tripping over molehills and falling down ha-has; and it is very pleasant (especially when your shoes fit you too soon) to get back to her and pour all your troubles into her sympathetic ear. It's a figure in which you stand on one foot each for a considerable time, and paw the air with the others. You preserve your balance better if you converse easily and naturally.
"I nearly came a frightful purler just now; did you see?"
"H'sh, not so loud. Have you found mother yet? She's here to-day."
"One of my patches fell off. I hope nobody heard it."
"You've got a different wig to-day. Why?"
"It's greyer. I had such a very anxious moment yesterday. You know that last bow at the end where you go down and stay under water for about five minutes? Well, I really thought—however, they didn't."
"I don't like you in this one. It doesn't suit you at all."
"So I thought at first. But if you gaze at it very earnestly for three hours, and then look up at the ceiling, you——"
"Why, there is mother. Hold up."