"Noble Dill!" she exclaimed.
As for Noble, his dry throat refused its office; he felt that he might never be able to speak to Julia again, even if he tried.
"Where in the world have you been all evening?" she cried.
"Why, Jew-Julia!" he quavered. "Did you notice that I was gone?"
"Did I 'notice'!" she said. "You never came near me all evening after the first dance! Not even at supper!"
"You wouldn't—you didn't——" he faltered. "You wouldn't do anything all evening except dance with that old Clairdyce and listen to him trying to sing."
But Julia would let no one suffer if she could help it; and she could always help Noble. She made her eyes mysterious and used a voice of honey and roses. "You don't think I'd rather have danced with him, do you, Noble?"
Immediately sparks seemed to crackle about his head. He started.
"What?" he said.
The scent of heliotrope enveloped him; she laughed her silver harp-strings laugh, and lifted her arms toward the dazzled young man. "It's the last dance," she said. "Don't you want to dance it with me?"