But it was a surprise to all present when he announced that a friend whose name he was not privileged to mention, had offered a prize to the child who should dance most gracefully, either alone or with a partner.
"You can't get it, Ethelyn," said Reginald, "for you're as awkward as a lame elephant."
"I am not," snapped Ethelyn, "and you'd better not try for it, 'cause you'd only make a spectacle of yourself."
"So would you," retorted Reginald, "and then we'd be a pair of spectacles."
Ethelyn said no more, for the dances were beginning.
Some of the pupils danced very prettily, others affectedly, and others cleverly, but the dances were of a kicking, romping nature that required much practice and skill to perform gracefully.
After all had taken part, Professor Dodson turned politely to Patty, and invited her, if she would, to dance also.
"Oh, I couldn't, thank you," she answered "I don't know any of these flings. I only know an old-fashioned minuet."
"Try that," urged Ethelyn, who delighted to have her cousin made conspicuous, as that attracted attention towards herself.
The professor insisted upon it, so Patty obligingly consented, and saying, "I couldn't dance with these things jingling," she gave Ethelyn the heavy necklace and bangles.