“A saint!” Maria uttered under her breath, smiling contemptuously as she made a movement to leave the piano, hoping Guy would follow her.
But he did not at once. Standing for a moment irresolute, while he looked curiously at Maddy, he said at last:
“Of course I interfere with no one’s scruples of that kind, but I cannot allow you to wear yourself out for our amusement.”
“I like to play—please let me,” was Maddy’s reply; and, as the set upon the floor were waiting for her, she turned to the instrument, while Guy mechanically offered his arm to Maria, and sauntered toward the green room.
“What a blue old ignoramus that grandfather must be, to object to dancing, don’t you think so?”
Maria laughed a little spitefully, secretly glad that Maddy had refused, and secretly angry at Guy for seeming to care so much.
“Say,” she continued, as Guy did not answer her, “don’t you think it a sign that something is lacking in brains or education, when a person sets up that dancing is wicked?”
Guy would have taken Maddy’s side then, whatever he might have thought, and he replied:
“No lack of brains, certainly; though education and circumstances have much to do with one’s views upon that subject. For my part, I like to see people consistent. Now, that old ignoramus, as you call him, lays great stress on pomp and vanities, and when I asked him once what he meant by them, he mentioned dancing in particular as one of the things which you, church people, promise to renounce;” and Guy bowed toward Maria, who, knowing that she was one of the church people referred to, winced perceptibly.
“But this girl—this Maddy. There’s no reason why she should decline,” she said; and Guy replied: “Respect for her grandfather, in her case, seems to be stronger than respect for a higher power in some other cases.”