"Are we down-hearted?" he echoed in a spirit of bravado.
"Not a bit of it; now we'll dance together, and I'll try to pull you around. There, put your arm around my waist,—that's right. Hold me closer,—don't be afraid. Imagine I'm your sister if it will keep you from being embarrassed. Left foot forward—ta, ta, ta, ta—that's better. No, let me lead. There, we can go forwards and backwards anyway, but you mustn't step on my feet. That's the first thing to learn,—dance on your own feet."
"I beg your pardon—"
"That's all right; I don't mind it at all. But when we stop dancing, you know, you must take your arm away from my waist. How quickly you overcame that early embarrassment!"
"I don't intend to give you another chance to suggest that I'm afraid," Cosden retorted. "I may not know much about girls or dancing, but if you think I haven't nerve enough to put my arm around your waist,—well, it's up to me to demonstrate."
"You bold, bad man!" Edith pointed her finger at him in mock-reproach. "I sha'n't dare go on with the lesson until I've forgotten your threatening attitude! Now let's see if a little turn on the piazza won't give us courage to continue."
Cosden assented with alacrity. "Splendid notion!" he exclaimed; "that will give me a chance to cool off."
"You are warm," she admitted, looking him over critically and noting that his collar was completely wrecked. "You must read the Polite Book of Dancing Etiquette—"
"Oh, Lord!" Cosden groaned.
"You will find there many useful suggestions which will add to your popularity with your partners. For instance, it tells you that when overheated by the exercise you should stand erect and throw your chin out; then the perspiration will run down the back of your neck and be less noticeable.—Come now, see what a light Bermuda breeze will do to cheer you up."