Marty, after some sulking, went back to school. The thing that encouraged him most to do this was the fact that Frank Bowman had explained to him the impossibility of his ever being a civil engineer unless he at first secured a good, all-round education.
“It’s goin’ to be powerful lonely about the house with ev’rybody gone, I declare for’t!” sighed Aunt ’Mira. “I should think you’d be satisfied with the book-larnin’ you’d already got, Janice.”
Just the same, she was desirous that Marty should remain in attendance at the town school; and she put up a very attractive basket of luncheon for Janice to take in the car. Janice did not have to start until about eight o’clock to reach the seminary by the time recitations began. Day scholars were not required to report at chapel.
Aunt ’Mira did find the time hang heavy on her hands after her housework was done. One could not read love stories all the time. In fact, the supply of Household Love Letters, and its ilk, ran out. But it was about this time that Polktown was introduced to something entirely new—and by Annette Bowman.
A little dapper man, with black curls and a waxed mustache, appeared at the Lake View Inn. Although Mel Parraday and his wife were glad to see guests come so late in the season, had he not been vouched for by Annette, this stranger would never have received a cordial welcome, to say the least, at Polktown’s single hostelry.
In the beginning, he was a foreigner. Mel “opined” at first that he was a “Canuck,” which was the local appellation for Canadians of French extraction. Polktown people did not welcome any influx of foreigners.
Mr. Bogarti engaged the use of the Odd Fellows’ Hall for the afternoons. Then he sent a boy around with cards announcing that his mission in life was to teach dancing—especially the modern steps. Annette had done good missionary work for Mr. Bogarti. As he was to give much individual attention to his pupils, and the dancing classes were for only three hours in the afternoon, he very quickly had all he wanted to do every day save Sunday.
He took private pupils for his off hours, going to their houses if they so desired.
He was wise enough to invite visitors to his public classes, and Aunt ’Mira was one of several ladies who went to look on. She dared only sit on a bench at first, perspiring enviously as she saw some women quite as old as herself essaying the graceful steps that make up some of the simpler new dances.
At last she was invited to try, she was tempted, she fell! Not literally, luckily for the foundations of the Odd Fellows’ Building. Secretly Aunt ’Mira tried to become a dancer. Years before, when she was a young girl, although always plump, she had been very light on her feet and had enjoyed the old-fashioned square dances. Hope was awakened in Aunt ’Mira’s soul. She greatly wished to go back to the Land of Yesterday; and if youth could be overtaken, as they said, by more or less painful gyrations on the dancing floor, she was determined to do her very utmost to attain the proper movements.