Elma got up. "I think I could dance," said she.
"Do," said Cuthbert, and put his arm round her.
To the dismay of the girls, he swung Elma into the midst of the wedding trousseaux. Boxes were snatched up, tissue paper sent flying in all directions. Every girl in the room screamed maledictions on them both. This was quite unlike Elma, to be displaying her own feelings at the risk of anything else in the world. They stopped with a wild whirl.
"Elma wanted to dance," said Cuthbert coolly, "and as she hasn't had any exercise lately, I thought it would be good for her. Have some more?" he asked her.
A demon of delight danced in Elma's eyes.
"Why, certainly," she said politely.
There was no holding them in at all.
Elma had her first real lecture, from Mabel of all people.
"I think it's very inconsiderate of you, Elma--just when we are so busy. You might arrange to stop fooling with Cuthbert when these things are lying about. It isn't fair of you."
"Oh, Mabs," said Elma, "you don't know! I've been under the clouds so long--thunder clouds, with everything raining down on me, and hardly any sunshine at all. And just at the present moment I'm on top of the clouds, treading on air; I can't describe it. But even although you are so solemn, and Isobel is so vexed, and Jean is so haughty, and Betty is simply vicious, why, even in spite of that, I'd like another dance with Cuthbert."