Nor did he refuse another lesson. When they had drifted into the drawing-room, Leonore asked: “Have you been learning how to valse?”
Peter smiled at so good an American using so European a word, but said seriously, “No. I’ve been too busy.”
“That’s a shame,” said Leonore, “because there are to be two dances this week, and mamma has written to get you cards.”
“Is it very hard?” asked Peter.
“No,” said Leonore. “It’s as easy as breathing, and much nicer.”
“Couldn’t you teach me that, also?”
“Easily. Mamma, will you play a valse? Now see.” Leonore drew her skirts back with one hand, so as to show the little feet, and said: “one, two, three, so. One, two, three, so. Now do that.”
Peter had hoped that the way to learn dancing was to take the girl in one’s arms. But he recognized that this would follow. So he set to work manfully to imitate that dainty little glide. It seemed easy as she did it. But it was not so easy when he tried it.
“Oh, you clumsy,” said Leonore laughing. “See. One, two, three, so. One, two, three, so.”
Peter forgot to notice the step, in his admiration of the little feet and the pretty figure.