“The Euphrosyne is coming home,” cried the boys with one voice. “Had we not told you? The Euphrosyne is coming home, and Roger may be here any day!”
“That is something like news,” said Queen Bee; “I thought it would only be that the puppies could see, or that Tom’s tooth was through. Grandpapa has not heard it?”
“Papa is going up to tell him,” said John. “I was going too, only Alex bagged me to carry his holly-bush.”
“And so the great Rogero is coming home!” said Beatrice. “How you will learn to talk sea slang! And how happy grandmamma will be, especially if he comes in time for her great affair. Do you hear, Alex? you must practise your steps, for grandmamma is going to give a grand party, Careys and Evanses, and all, on purpose to gratify Fred’s great love of dancing.”
“I love dancing?” exclaimed Fred, in a tone of astonishment and contempt.
“Why, did you not look quite enraptured at breakfast when it was proposed? I expected you every moment to ask the honour of my hand for the first quadrille, but I suppose you leave it for Philip Carey!”
“If it comes at all you must start me, Bee,” said Alex, “for I am sure I can’t dance with any one but you.”
“Let me request it now,” said Fred, “though why you should think I like dancing I cannot imagine! I am sure nothing but your Majesty can make it endurable.”
“There are compliments to your Majesty,” cried Henrietta, laughing; “one will not or cannot dance at all without her, the other cannot find it endurable! I long to see which is to be gratified.”
“Time will show,” said Beatrice; “I shall ponder on their requests, and decide maturely, Greek against Prussian, lover of the dance against hater of the dance.”