"Yes, of course, but have you no partner?"
"I have, indeed"—laughing. "One I would not readily change. I have you."
"But," looking up at him a little shyly after this plain speech, "how did you arrange it?"
"Very simply. This will be my first waltz as well a yours."
"Oh, that is too bad of you," said the girl, colouring softly. She meant to be angry with him, perhaps; but if so, the effort was a dead failure. The corners of her lips were smiling, and a happy light had crept into her eyes. "To wait so long, and—-"
"It was long. I admit that," interrupted he, smiling. "I thought you would never come."
"It was all Mrs. Poynter's fault," said Agatha. "And really, but for me I am sure she would not be here even now."
"Well, come on, now; let us get even a turn or two," said Dillwyn. "By the bye, the next—is that free?"
"Yes," said Agatha. She felt a little frightened. She hoped he would not know she had kept it free purposely. Four or five men had asked her for dances whilst she stood near the door on her arrival with Mrs. Poynter, and when giving them a dance here and there she had steadily refused to part with the next one. She did not tell herself why at the moment, but she knew all the same.
"May I have it?" asked Dillwyn, with such a delightful anxiety that all at once her mind was set at rest.