“Do you mean that she must hire a dancing-master?” demanded Meg. “Well, I think it is a great piece of nonsense, besides being a waste of time, for you know how much engaged M. Dupont always is at this season! Depend upon it, Kitty would be obliged to wait for days and days before he could find the time to come to her. Why don’t you teach her yourself? For this I will say, Freddy!—however stupid you may be, you are by far the best dancer in London! And that, let me tell you, is what Lady Jersey says!”
“Does she, though?” said Freddy, moved by this tribute. “By Jove!” Doubt shook him. “Yes, but I couldn’t teach Kit! Dash it all!”
“Oh, Freddy, please do!” begged Kitty, by no means anxious to spend any of her fast-dwindling substance on the services of a dancing-master.
“He shall do so!” declared Meg. “He shall teach you the waltz this very evening!”
The unfortunate Mr. Standen protested in vain: he was no match for two determined females. Chairs and tables were thrust against the wall; and when, in a last, despairing effort to save himself, he pleaded that although he could do the thing he was dashed if he could explain it, Meg jumped up from the piano-stool, and very obligingly said that she would do it with him, so that Kitty might learn by observation. As Kitty could hardly be expected to watch the steps and to play the piano at the same time, Meg provided the necessary music by humming one of her favourite waltz-airs, a performance which so lacerated the sensitive Mr. Standen’s nerves that he very soon declared that anything was better than to have such a devilish noise in his ear, and offered to give his betrothed a turn. Since Kitty had a natural aptitude, and Meg was able to come to the rescue when his verbal instructions became too incoherent to do more than bewilder his pupil, the lesson was very successful. In a remarkably short space of time, Freddy decided that she was sufficiently advanced to put his tuition into practice. He bade his sister play one of his favourite airs, took Miss Charing in his arm, and made her dance round the room with him. She was at first so much embarrassed that she made a great many false steps, for to stand so close to a man, and to feel his arm about her waist, positively constraining her to move in whatever direction he wished, was an unprecedented and rather alarming experience, and one, moreover, which she knew would have been violently disapproved of by her guardian and her governess. She kept her eyes shyly lowered, and could not help blushing a little. But as there was nothing in the least amorous in Freddy’s light, firm clasp, and such remarks as he addressed to her were of an admonitory nature, she soon recovered her countenance, began to move with much more assurance, and even, presently, dared to raise her eyes.
“You know what?” Freddy said, when at last he released her. “You ain’t a bad dancer at all, Kit. Dashed if I don’t think you’ll shine ‘em all down!”
“Oh!” cried Kitty, a little out of breath, but triumphant. “Do you think so indeed, Freddy?” “Shouldn’t be at all surprised. What I mean is, when you’ve rid yourself of this devilish trick you have of treading on me every now and then.”
“You are a great deal too severe, Freddy!” said Meg, beginning to put the chairs back into their places. “She dances very gracefully! I am sure I should never have guessed she had never waltzed before!”
Freddy shook his head. “Would it you’d been dancing with her,” he said simply.
“Well!” exclaimed Meg. “What an odious thing to say! And you have been engaged to her only for three days!”