"You have not mastered the alphabet yet. Bright and dancing as is that eye, I have seen it shed tears in abundance and softness, like a woman's. His tongue knows other language than that of flippant trifling."
"He is a universal favorite. I am surprised he has never married."
Mr. Holmes was silent. He even looked pained; and Ida, conscious that she had unwittingly touched a sore spot, took up the strain Mr. Truman had broken. She was in the Coliseum of Rome; when among the moving sea of faces precipitated upon the retina, yet nothing to the brain, unless, perhaps, making more vivid its conceptions of the multitude, who once lined the crumbling walls of the amphitheatre—one arrested her attention. The subject was thrilling; the speaker's description graphic and earnest;—it was unkind, and ungrateful, and disrespectful—but laugh she must, and did, when in Charley's partner she beheld Celestia Pratt! Her first emotion was extreme amusement; her next, indignant compassion for him thrust into public notice as the cavalier of a tawdry fright; for the thickest of satin robes, and a load of jewelry, that gave plausibility to the tale of Hannibal's spoils at Cannæ, betrayed, instead of cloaking vulgarity. He was playing the agreeable, however, with, his wonted sang-froid, varied, as she judged from his gestures, by gratuitous hints as to the figure and step. In trying to efface the remembrance of her rudeness from Mr. Holmes' mind, and watching the oddly matched pair, she passed the time until the set was finished. Arthur approached, and the gleam of his white teeth upset her acquired gravity.
"Caught," said he, as Mr. Holmes walked away, "just as I was. I secured a partner directly I saw her; and Mr. Truman, hearing from her that I was an acquaintance, put at me two minutes later."
"He said you were engaged—to dance."
"Here he is! Charley, I thought you declined dancing."
"So I did. I consented to please Mr. Truman."
"Had you ever seen your partner before?"
"No. I know what you are at, Art., but I cannot laugh with you. I am sorry for her."
"You shame us, Mr. Dana," said Ida, frankly. "I will make amends for my uncharitableness, by fighting my way, single-handed, to the farthest end of the room, to speak to her, if you say so."