“I’m sure we’ll get on all right,” he replied; “you look as if you would dance well. Don’t be nervous.”
He proved a true prophet; after a moment or two’s slight hesitation, Imogen found herself quite at home.
“Oh,” she said, when at last they stopped, “I had no idea it could be so nice; ever so much easier, too, than dancing when it’s a dancing-lesson, you know.”
Mr Winchester could scarcely help laughing, but he was pleased too.
“You really dance beautifully,” he said. “So if your only experience has been dancing-lessons, as you say, you have certainly profited by them. But you should dance with Rex.”
“Does he dance so well?” asked the girl, with interest.
“Splendidly: his worst enemy can’t deny that,” answered Robin with emphasis.
“Who is his worst enemy? I shouldn’t have thought he had any,” said Imogen, half thoughtlessly, but with a spice of curiosity too.
Robin glanced round the room, but suddenly checked himself.
“No,” he said, “I won’t make mischief. Never mind, Miss Wentworth; it’s a shame to spoil a jolly good dance by talking of disagreeable things. Shall we have another turn?”