“I cannot dance,” said Amrie; and as the music ceased, she pressed through to find a retired spot, where she could remain unseen. She heard those behind her say, “She can dance, and better than any girl in the country.”
CHAPTER X.
ONLY ONE DANCE.
RAVEN ZACHY, from the music stage, reached his glass to Barefoot. She touched it with her lips and gave it back, when he said, “If you dance, Amrie, I will play with the whole power of my instrument, so that the angels shall come down to listen.”
“Yes,” said Amrie, half in sport and half in sadness; “but if no angel come down to ask me, I fear I shall have no partner.” And now she considered, Why it was necessary to have a policeman at a dance? Then she thought, “He is a man like other men, although he wears a sword and a laced hat, and before he became a policeman, he was a young fellow like the others. It must be vexatious, that he is not allowed to dance. But what is all this to me? I also must look on, and I am not paid for it.”
A short time after, they were more quiet and moderate upon the dancing-ground, for the “English Lady,” (thus in the village they called Agy,) the wife of Councillor Severin, came with her children to the dance. The respectable timber-merchant called for champagne; a glass was presented to Agy, and she drank to the happiness of the young couple. She knew how to please every one by a graceful word or two. Upon the faces of all there was an expression of satisfaction. She touched her lips to many of the flower-crowned glasses, presented to her by the young fellows. Also the old women in the neighborhood of Barefoot had much to say in praise of the “English Lady.” They stood up long before she reached, and exchanged a word or two with them.
As soon as Agy had passed on, the jubilee, with singing, dancing, and loud music, began again with new strength.
Farmer Rodel’s upper clerk came to Amrie, and she trembled, full of expectation that he would ask her to dance; but he only said, “Please, Barefoot, hold my pipe till I have gone through this dance?” Then many of the young girls from her village came to her; from one she received a jacket, from another a handkerchief, a neck-ribbon, a house-key. She held them all, and still larger grew her burthen, as each dance succeeded the other. She laughed at her own situation, for no one came for her.
Now there was a waltz played so soft and tender, that it seemed as though they might float upon it; and now a polka, so wild and gay, that Hie! away they went springing and stamping, all eyes sparkling, and all breathing joy. The old women, who sat in the corners, complained of the heat and dust, but none went home.