"I say again, Carstairs, there's much of the original Saxon in you. How long did it take you to come to this decision?"
"About half an hour—that is to say, it took me that time to decide that I would go in for dancing. The rest followed as a sort of corollary."
Darwen's eyes gleamed with approval. "I'll play you a tune," he said; he struck a note idly and listened to the vibrations tentatively for a few moments. "The foundation of engineering science is a knowledge of the strength of material," he observed thoughtfully. "Before one builds a bridge or an engine it is necessary to correctly apportion the size and quality of the various parts." He struck up into a lively dance tune.
"That's a waltz, isn't it?"
"Yes, why?"
"I want to get the hang of the tune, that's all."
Darwen laughed, and rattled on waltz after waltz, till he was tired.
Next day Carstairs consulted the local directory and made a note of all the teachers of dancing, and for the following three weeks, he waltzed for an hour a day, as regular as clockwork. Darwen alternately chaffed and encouraged him, but he took it all alike with a steady, tolerant smile, puffing slowly at his pipe. Then the first of the little dances came off; a select gathering of about sixty dancers with two dear old ladies to see that the proprieties were observed. It was a suite of rooms in a comparatively big house which had once been the residence of wealthy gentlemen, but had now dropped into the professional quarters of a dancing master. Carstairs acquitted himself with credit, and Darwen with distinction. He spotted the elder Miss Jameson (daughter of the chairman of the electricity committee) and asked to be introduced; he danced three times with her with great success.
She was rather small, distinctly pretty, of the doll type; with innocent, wide-open, blue eyes, and a perfect little mouth. She was a good talker in a slightly affected juvenile sort of way; her brain, however, was more active than it appeared; she had a lively sense of precisely what was best for Miss Jameson. Darwen was a good talker too, so they rattled on brightly and humorously from one subject to another. She had a fine sense of humour, which he appreciated immensely. He brought the subject round to the electricity works.
"I'm assisting the corporation on its way to bankruptcy," he remarked, laughing lightly.