The full horror of his position was revealed to William in the relieved, confident, proprietor's smile of Miss Boke.For William lived by a code from which no previous experience had taught him any means of escape.Mrs.Parcher had made the statement--so needless and so ruinous--that he had no engagements; and in his dismay he had been unable to deny this fatal truth; he had been obliged to let it stand.Henceforth, he was committed absolutely to Miss Boke until either some one else asked her to dance, or (while yet in her close company) William could obtain an engagement with another girl.The latter alternative presented certain grave difficulties, also contracting William to dance with the other girl before once more obtaining his freedom, but undeniably he regarded it from the first as the more hopeful.
He had to give form to the fatal invitation.
``M'av this dance 'thyou?'' he muttered, doggedly.
``Vurry pleased to!'' Miss Boke responded, whereupon they walked in silence to the platform, stepped upon its surface, and embraced.
They made a false start.
They made another.
They stood swaying to catch the time; then made another.After that they tried again, and were saved from a fall only by spasmodic and noticeable contortions.
Miss Boke laughed tolerantly, as if forgiving William for his awkwardness, and his hot heart grew hotter with that injustice.She was a large, ample girl, weighing more than William (this must be definitely claimed in his behalf), and she had been spending the summer at a lakeside hotel where she had constantly danced ``man's part.'' To paint William's predicament at a stroke, his partner was a determined rather than a graceful dancer--and their efforts to attune themselves to each other and to the music were in a fair way to attract general attention.
A coarse chuckle, a half-suppressed snort, assailed William's scarlet ear, and from the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of Joe Bullitt gliding by, suffused; while over Joe's detested shoulder could be seen the adorable and piquant face of the One girl--also suffused.
``Doggone it!'' William panted.
``Oh, you mustn't be discouraged with yourself,''
said Miss Boke, genially.``I've met lots of Men that had trouble to get started and turned out to be right good dancers, after all.It seems to me we're kind of workin' against each other.I'll tell you--you kind of let me do the guiding and I'll get you going fine.Now! ONE, two, ONE, two! There!''
William ceased to struggle for dominance, and their efforts to ``get started'' were at once successful.With a muscular power that was surprising, Miss Boke bore him out into the circling current, swung him round and round, walked him backward half across the platform, then swung him round and round and round again.For a girl, she ``guided'' remarkably well; nevertheless, a series of collisions, varying in intensity, marked the path of the pair upon the rather crowded platform.In such emergencies Miss Boke proved herself deft in swinging William to act as a buffer, and he several times found himself heavily stricken from the rear; anon his face would be pressed suffocatingly into Miss Boke's hair, without the slightest wish on his part for such intimacy.He had a helpless feeling, fully warranted by the circumstances.Also, he soon became aware that Miss Boke's powerful ``guiding''
was observed by the public; for, after one collision, more severe than others, a low voice hissed in his ear:
``SHE WON'T HURT YOU MUCH, SILLY BILL.SHE'S
ONLY IN FUN!''
This voice belonged to the dancer with whom he had just been in painful contact, Johnnie Watson.However, Johnnie had whirled far upon another orbit before William found a retort, and then it was a feeble one.
``I wish YOU'D try a few dances with her!''
he whispered, inaudibly, but with unprecedented bitterness, as the masterly arm of his partner just saved him from going over the edge of the platform.``I bet she'd kill you!''
More than once he tried to assert himself and resume his natural place as guide, but each time he did so he immediately got out of step with his partner, their knees collided embarrassingly, they staggered and walked upon each other's insteps--and William was forced to abandon the unequal contest.
``I just love dancing,'' said Miss Boke, serenely.
``Don't you, Mr.Baxter?''
``What?'' he gulped.``Yeh.''
``It's a beautiful floor for dancing, isn't it?''
``Yeh.''
``I just love dancing,'' Miss Boke thought proper to declare again.``Don't you love it, Mr.
Baxter?''
This time he considered his enthusiasm to be sufficiently indicated by a nod.He needed all his breath.
``It's lovely,'' she murmured.``I hope they don't play `Home, Sweet Home' very early at parties in this town.I could keep on like this all night!''
To the gasping William it seemed that she already had kept on like this all night, and he expressed himself in one great, frank, agonized moan of relief when the music stopped.``I sh'
think those musicians 'd be dead!'' he said, as he wiped his brow.And then discovering that May Parcher stood at his elbow, he spoke hastily to her.``M'av the next 'thyou?''
But Miss Parcher had begun to applaud the musicians for an encore.She shook her head.
``Next's the third extra,'' she said.``And, anyhow, this one's going to be encored now.You can have the twenty-second--if there IS any!''
William threw a wild glance about him, looking for other girls, but the tireless orchestra began to play the encore, and Miss Boke, who had been applauding, instantly cast herself upon his bosom.
``Come on!'' she cried.``Don't let's miss a second of it; It's just glorious!''
When the encore was finished she seized William's arm, and, mentioning that she'd left her fan upon the chair under the maple-tree, added, ``Come on! Let's go get it QUICK!''
Under the maple-tree she fanned herself and talked of her love for dancing until the music sounded again.``Come on!'' she cried, then.
``Don't let's miss a second of it! It's just glorious!''
And grasping his arm, she propelled him toward the platform with a merry little rush.
So passed five dances.Long, long dances.
Likewise five encores.Long encores.
