for he could not dance. His big hand pawed at her silken waist, while
the other held hers crumpled in it--his hair was greased with butter,
and his skin with the sweat of his endeavour as he turned her round.

That was the only time Joanna danced that night. For the rest of the
evening she went about among her guests, seeing that all were well fed
and had partners. As time went on, gradually her brightness dimmed, and
her eyes became almost anxious as she searched among the dancers. Each
time she looked she seemed to see the same thing, and each time she saw
it, it was as if a fresh veil dropped over her eyes.

At last, towards the end of the evening, she went up again to Socknersh.

"Would you like me to dance this polka with you that's coming?"

"Thank you, missus--I'd be honoured, missus--but I'm promised to Martha
Tilden."

"Martha!--You've danced with her nearly all the evening."

"She's bin middling kind to me, missus, showing me the steps and hops."

"Oh, well, since you've promised you must pay."

She turned her back on him, then suddenly smarted at her own
pettishness.

"You've the makings of a good dancer in you, if you'll learn," she said
over her shoulder. "I'm glad Martha's teaching you."