"Then one girl was just going out with her bodice all gaping open, and Carolina stepped up to her as sweetly as if she had been received with perfect politeness and asked if she mightn't fasten it. The hooks were half off, so Carolina took a paper of pins and fairly pinned that girl into her clothes,--her waist and skirt didn't meet. She accepted all this help, thanked her, and went out, leaving us all alone. Then our boys came and took us down to the ballroom, and, if you will believe it, mother, not a girl came near us or asked to be introduced or introduced a single boy! Not even the girl that Carolina had helped. I looked at Carolina to see if she noticed it, but her face was as calm as it always is. Her colour, however, was a little less than usual at first.
"We noticed that things sort of dragged at first, and soon we found out what it was. An English yacht was in the river, and its owner, Sir Hubert Wemyss, a young man only about thirty, was expected, and all the girls were trying to save dances for him, and all the boys were trying to get the choice ones.
"The first dance I didn't watch Carolina, because I had heard that Jim Little was a good dancer, but, after it was over, I saw him take her to the door and she went up to the dressing-room. I made John stop near him, and I asked him what was the matter. 'Oh, I stuck my foot through the lace of her dress, and she's gone to be sewed up. Say, Miss Peachie, that girl can't dance! I never saw a Yankee that could!'
"Well, mother, I could scarcely believe my ears! The conceit of that raw Southern boy, who never had been outside of his own little town in the whole of his life, except to go duck-shooting in the swamps, to presume to criticize Carolina's dancing!"
"What did you say to him, sweetheart?"
Aunt Angie's cheeks were as red as any girl's. She sat bolt upright in the borrowed carriage, in her cheap print dress and cotton gloves, looking like an empress. The proudest blood in South Carolina flowed in her veins and she had the spirit of her State.
"I said, 'Are you sure, Mr. Little, that the fault was all hers?' And he laughed and said, 'Well, the Savannah girls never find fault with my dancing, Miss Peachie!' 'Oh,' I said, 'if such criterions have stamped their approval on you, Mr. Little, of course there is no more to be said!' He didn't see the sarcasm at all,--he seems a trifle dense. So we waited for Carolina, and when she came back, I saw that her dress was ruined, but she had managed to hide it pretty well, and her manner was just as sweet to that man as if he had been fanning her, and we all four went back to Cousin Lois.
"The next dance we changed partners, Jim Little taking me and John Hobson taking Carolina. Now John is said to be the best dancer in Savannah, so I kept an eye on them, but they didn't do very well. Carolina's colour began to rise and her eyes began to grow that purplish black--you remember? Oh, she looked so beautiful! But she wasn't enjoying herself, and she stopped near me to rest. Then I heard John say, 'You dance more like a Southern girl than any Yankee I ever knew!' Think, mother! That was twice she had been called a Yankee before we had been there an hour. A Lee of South Carolina! Her cheeks just grew a little warmer and she lifted her chin a little higher, but didn't correct him--just said, 'I suppose you intend that for a compliment, Mr. Hobson?' 'I should say I did!' he said. 'I never saw a Yankee girl who could dance in all my born days!' 'How do you account for that?' asked Carolina, in just as sweet a tone, mother, as she always uses. Me? I was just boiling! I was ready to cry!"
Her mother pressed her hand. Aunt Angle's own lips were trembling with indignation.
"'Oh,' the fool said, 'I reckon they don't get as many chances to dance as our girls do!' Well, that saved me. I began to laugh and I laughed until I nearly went into hysterics. I had to excuse myself and ask Jim to get me some water!"