“Oh, thank you,” Maddy answered. “I am not tired in the least. I had as lief play till morning, provided they are satisfied with my time, and my stock of music holds out.”
“But it is not fair for one to do all the playing; besides, I shall ask you to dance with me by-and-bye.”
Maddy’s face crimsoned for an instant, and then in a low voice she said, “I thank you, but I must decline.”
“Maddy!” Guy exclaimed, in tones more indicative of reproach than expostulation.
There were tears in Maddy’s eyes, and Maria Cutler, watching her, was vexed to see how beautiful was the expression of her face as she answered frankly, “I have never told you that grandpa objected to my taking dancing lessons when I wrote to him about it. He does not like me to dance.”
“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, who was waiting for him, 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 said, laughing a little spitefully, and feeling secretly glad that Maddy had refused, and secretly angry at Guy for seeming to care so much.