"I think the Duchess might find you a partner," she said, huffily; "and what an uncomfortable sofa! I wish for my part that I was safe at home again."
And Grace very nearly said,
"So do I!"
A funny looking little man, with curiously small eyes and a big head, passed and re-passed, looking along the benches, sliding behind the crowd, which seemed to increase every moment. As he passed he saw Grace's wistful eyes, and he went on.
Returning, he was accompanied by a tall fine looking, middle-aged man; they approached, and her heart beat high with hope; this little man was some relation, and he had found her a partner.
Delightful delusion born to be dispelled. The tall man bowed to Lady Lyons, and then said,
"Her Grace has asked me to introduce Mr. Bott to you and your niece; he is anxious to persuade her to try this valse;" and without seeing Grace (unless, as she thought angrily, he could see her without looking at her) he bowed himself away again.
Grace's mortification knew no bounds. To make her first public appearance dancing with this peculiar looking man was very terrible to her, but to sit for a whole evening behind the backs (and very ample backs) of sundry dowagers, who either preferred standing or could find no seats to their liking, seemed the only other alternative, and still more intolerable to her.
She rose and moved with him, a little surprised at the way he glided through the dense crowd, making room for her behind him.
She had been considered at school a perfect dancer, but dancing well with mankind requires practice which she had never had, and this little man danced abominably. He had all possible defects, and did as nearly as he could every single thing he ought not to have done.