“No; only we got tired, and we didn’t want to stay to their old party, anyway, and we’d rather be home.” Leslie sprang up the stairs, and caught her aunt in her arms with one of her sweet, violent kisses.
“O my dear!” was all Julia Cloud could say. And then they heard Allison closing the door softly below, and creaking across the floor and up the stairs.
“Oh, you waked her up!” he said reproachfully as he caught sight of his sister in Julia Cloud’s arms.
“No, you’re wrong. She hadn’t even gone to bed yet. I knew she wouldn’t,” said Leslie, nestling closer. “Say, Cloudy, we’re not going to trouble you that way again. It isn’t worth it. We don’t like their old dancing, anyway. I couldn’t forget the way you looked so hurt––and the things you said. Won’t you please 217 come down to the fire awhile? We want to tell you about it.”
Down on the couch, with Allison stirring up the dying embers and Leslie nestled close to her, Julia Cloud heard bits about the evening.
“It wasn’t bad, Cloudy, ’deed it wasn’t. They dance a lot nicer in colleges than they do other places. I know, for I’ve been to lots of dances, and I never let men get too familiar. Allison taught me that when I was little. That’s why what you said made me so mad. I’ve always been a lot carefuller than you’d think, and I never dance with anybody the second time if I don’t like the way he does it the first time. And everybody was real nice and dignified to-night, Cloudy. The boys are all shy and bashful, anyway; only I couldn’t forget what you had said about not liking to have me do it; and it made everything seem so––so––well, not nice; and I just felt uncomfortable; and one dance I sent the boy for a glass of water for me, and I just sat it out; and, when Allison saw me, he came over, and said, ‘Let’s beat it!’ and so I slipped up to the dressing-room, and got my cloak, and we just ran away without telling anybody. Wasn’t that perfectly dreadful? But I’ll call the girl up after a while, and tell her we had to come home and we didn’t want to spoil their fun telling them so.”
They sat for an hour talking before the fire, the young people telling her all about their experiences of the last few days, and letting her into their lives again with the old sweet relation. Then they drifted back again to the subject of dancing.
“I don’t give a whoop whether I dance or not, Cloudy,” said Allison. “I never did care much about 218 it, and I don’t see having my sister dance with some fellows, either. Only it does cut you out of lots of fun, and you get in bad with everybody if you don’t do it. I expected we’d have to have dances here at the house, too, sometimes; but, if you don’t like it, we won’t; and that’s all there is to it.”
“Well, dear, that’s beautiful of you. Of course I couldn’t allow you to let me upset your life and spoil all your pleasure; but I’m wondering if we couldn’t try an experiment. It seems to me there ought to be things that people would enjoy as much as dancing, and why couldn’t we find enough of them to fill up the evenings and make them forget about the dancing?”
“There’ll be some that won’t come, of course,” said Leslie; “but we should worry! They won’t be the kind we’ll like, anyway. Jane Bristol doesn’t dance. She told me so yesterday. She said her mother never did, and brought her up to feel that she didn’t want to, either.”