"My favorites are 'Lohengrin' and the 'Merry Widow.'"
"Horrors! That you must keep sacredly hidden from the dear girl. I've known her to go to the opera eight times in one week, and sigh for more. Of course you adore orchestral music?"
"You'll have to score zeros against me on music, but perhaps I can come back strong in some other branches."
She held up a finger chidingly. "You from Boston, and don't rave over your Symphony Orchestra! That is a real blow! I supposed every one in Boston went to the Symphony concerts just for the prestige, even though he couldn't tell whether the orchestra was playing or only tuning up."
"You see I'm not trying to sail under false colors."
"Well, now I come to the supreme test of all: do you dance?"
Cosden threw up his hands in real despair. "You are making me look ridiculous," he said. "I knew the old dances, but I've never put myself up against the new ones. I suppose I could learn."
"Well, well, well!" ejaculated the fair inquisitor. "All I can say is that you showed real business judgment in coming to me first. Merry would have made short work of you; she's crazy about dancing. Oh, don't look so serious; the case may not be so hopeless as it seems."
"I don't see how it could be much worse." Cosden was genuinely chagrined.
"It isn't every one who finds a fairy godmother waiting for him when he comes out of his chrysalis, Mr. Cosden," Edith explained. "She will help young Lochinvar to throw aside his antiquity and come down to date. In two weeks' time you'll feel so spritely that Mr. Huntington and his friends of equal age will bore you,—all provided that you follow your instructor's precepts."