"You can waltz?"
"Oh, no!" shaking her lovely head emphatically, with a smile. "It's country dances I mean. Up the middle and down again, and all that," moving her hand in a soft undulating way as though keeping it in accord with some music that is ringing in her brain. Then, sweetly, "Did you ever dance a country dance?"
"Never!" says Lady Rodney, in a stony fashion. "I don't even know what you mean."
"No?" arching her brows, and looking really sorry for her. "What a pity! They all come quite naturally to me. I don't remember ever being taught them. The music seemed to inspire me, and I really dance them very well. Don't I Geoff?"
"I never saw your equal," says Geoffrey, who, with Sir Nicholas, has been listening to the last half of the conversation, and who is plainly suppressing a strong desire to laugh.
"Do you remember the evening you taught me the country dance that I said was like an old-fashioned minuet? And what an apt pupil I proved! I really think I could dance it now. By the by, my mother never saw one danced. She"—apologetically—"has not been out much. Let us go through one now for her benefit."
"Yes, let us," says Mona, gayly.
"Pray do not give yourselves so much trouble on my account," says Lady Rodney, with intense but subdued indignation.
"It won't trouble us, not a bit," says Mrs. Geoffrey, rising with alacrity. "I shall love it, the floor is so nice and slippery. Can any one whistle?"
At this Sir Nicholas gives way and laughs out loud, whereon Mona laughs too, though she reddens slightly, and says, "Well, of course the piano will do, though the fiddle is best of all."