“I’m afraid so,” he admitted. “You won’t give me away, will you?”
“How can I give you away?” she asked. “Your behavior has been perfect—of its sort.”
“I mean about the dancing,” he explained. “If Miss Bultiwell thinks I know as much about it as I do——”
“I understand,” she interrupted. “I won’t say a word. Shall we try a hesitation?”
Here Jacob found a little instruction useful, but he was a born dancer and very soon gave his instructress complete satisfaction. Just as they had finished, Sybil came in. She greeted Jacob politely, but with none of her partner’s cordiality.
“I am sorry to be late, Mr. Pratt,” she said. “I hope that Grace has been looking after you.”
“Admirably,” he replied.
“I suppose you thought I was quite mad when you got my note,” she went on, walking to the mantelpiece and drawing off her gloves.
“Not at all,” he assured her. “I was very glad to get it. Very kind of you to give me the chance of polishing up my dancing.”
“Try a fox trot with him, Sybil,” Grace suggested. “I think he is going to be quite good.”