At this the professor made another wild pirouette, and, clapping his hands with glee, cried, "Yes, yes, Portunus is your man. Portunus will set your stitches dancing to his tunes, ho, ho, hoh!"
And he and Portunus dug each other in the ribs and laughed till the tears ran down their cheeks.
At last, pulling himself together, the Professor bade Portunus tune up his fiddle, and requested that the young ladies should form up into two lines for the first dance.
"We'll begin with 'Columbine,'" he said.
"But that's nothing but a country dance for farm servants," pouted Moonlove Honeysuckle.
And Prunella Chanticleer boldly went up to Miss Primrose, and said, "Please, mayn't we go on with the jigs and quadrilles we've always learned? I don't think mother would like me learning new things. And 'Columbine' is so vulgar."
"Vulgar! New!" cried Professor Wisp, shrilly. "Why, my pretty Miss, 'Columbine' was danced in the moonlight when Lud-in-the-Mist was nothing but a beech wood between two rivers. It is the dance that the Silent People dance along the Milky Way. It's the dance of laughter and tears."
"Professor Wisp is going to teach you very old and aristocratic dances, my dear," said Miss Primrose reprovingly. "Dances such as were danced at the court of Duke Aubrey, were they not, Professor Wisp?"
But the queer old fiddler had begun to tune up, and Professor Wisp, evidently thinking that they had already wasted enough time, ordered his pupils to stand up and be in readiness to begin.
Very sulkily it was that the Crabapple Blossoms obeyed, for they were all feeling as cross as two sticks at having such a vulgar buffoon for their master, and at being forced to learn silly old-fashioned dances that would be of no use to them when they were grown-up.