I was amazed by
his observing, "I think I could do it now. Would you try me, Lucy?"
After all, he was but five-and-twenty, and could hardly look on
anything requiring agility or dexterity without attempting it, so I
consented, with a renewal of the sensations I remembered when, as a
child, I had danced with grown-up men, only with alarm at the
responsibility of what Dermot called "the steerage of the Great
Harry," since collision with such momentum as ours might soon be
would be serious; but I soon found my anxiety groundless; he was too
well made and elastic to be clumsy, and had perfect power over his
own weight and strength, so that he could dance as lightly and safely
as Dermot with his Irish litheness.
"Do you think I might ask Miss Tracy?" he said, in return for my
compliments.
"Of course; why not?"
When he did ask, her reply was, "Oh, will you indeed? Thank you."
Which naivete actually raised her mother's colour with annoyance.
But if she had a rod laid up, Viola did not feel it then; she looked
radiant, and though I don't believe three words passed between the
partners, that waltz was the glory of the evening to her.
She must have made him take her to the tea-room for some ice, and
there it was that, while I was standing with my partner a little way
off, we heard Miss Avice Stympson's peculiarly penetrating attempt at
a whisper, observing, "Yes, it is melancholy! I thought we were safe
here, or I never should have brought my dear little Birdie.
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