Luke felt a little nervous, it must be confessed, and for that reason he watched with unusual care the movements of the head couples. He was quick to learn, and ordinarily cool and self-possessed. Besides, he knew that no one was likely to criticize him except Randolph. He saw the latter regarding him with a mocking smile, and this stimulated him to unusual carefulness. The result was that he went through his part with quite as much ease and correctness as any except the most practiced dancers. Florence said nothing, but she turned with a significant smile to Randolph. The latter looked disappointed and mortified. His mean disposition would have been gratified by Luke's failure, but this was a gratification he was not to enjoy.
The dance was at length concluded, and Luke, as he led his partner to a seat, felt that he had scored a success.
"May I have the pleasure of dancing with you next time, Florence?" asked Randolph.
"Thank you, but I should not think it right to slight my other guests," said the young lady.
Just then Luke came up and preferred the same request. He would not have done so if he had not acquitted himself well in the first quadrille.
Florence accepted with a smile.
"I was not aware that dancing was one of your accomplishments, Luke," she said.
"Nor I, till this evening," answered Luke. "There stands my teacher," and he pointed to Linton.
"You do credit to your teacher," said Florence. "I should not have known you were such a novice."
Luke was pleased with this compliment, and very glad that he had been spared the mortification of breaking down before the eyes of his ill-wisher, Randolph Duncan. It is hardly necessary to say that he did equally well in the second quadrille, though he and Florence were head couple.