And Porshinger noted the difference; and he said, as the music ended:
"I'm afraid I'm rather an awkward dancer, Mrs. Lorraine. I don't seem to get on as I should."
"I did not notice it," she replied.
"At least, I didn't get on as Cameron or Burgoyne did."
"You must remember that I have danced with them for years—we know each other's steps."
"Yes, that may be it—for I can modestly say that I am not a poor dancer. It struck me that we were not in accord temperamentally—we didn't catch the spirit, so to speak. We were treading the minuet rather than dancing a two-step."
"You mean we were doing it decorously rather than in a romp!" she laughed. "I don't like rompish dancing, Mr. Porshinger."
"Nor do I; but there is a happy medium—as you showed with Burgoyne," he replied calmly. "That is what I had in mind."
"When you have known me as long as they have, our steps doubtless will fit as well also."
"Let us hope that it won't be so long deferred," he answered, bending down and whispering it confidentially in her ear. "When may I have another try—may I have the third from now?"