Thus silenced and put in the wrong the young lady ventured nothing further.
"Edward," said Helene, later in the evening, "really you ought to dance with somebody else. There are dozens of charming girls here."
"Which dozen did you wish me to dance with?"
"Don't be nonsensical, please. Haven't you any preference?"
"Oh, decidedly, yes." He glanced at a petite maiden, whose figure and movements were light and fairy-like. "But I'm afraid she would refuse me."
"I don't think she would."
"That isn't sufficient. My vanity is painfully sensitive to the smallest danger of slight."
The fairy-like person had unconsciously assumed an appreciative, not to say sympathetic, expression. Helene smiled. "Your fears are very becoming to your youth and modesty, but I think I may go so far as to say I am sure she will not refuse."
"That is joyful news." Another set was forming, and he rose with hand extended to Helene. "You said you were sure she would not refuse," he responded to her look of blank amaze; and then, as she yielded to the irresistible entreaty in his eyes, he murmured softly, "How could you imagine I had any other preference but you?"
"One imagines a great many strange things," she replied. "Once I fancied that you preferred an Indian girl."