Van Bibber's partner had another friend in a gray corduroy waistcoat and
tan shoes, who was of Hebraic appearance. He also wore several very fine
rings, and officiated with what was certainly religious tolerance at the
M.E. Bethel Church. She said he was an elegant or--gan--ist, putting the
emphasis on the second syllable, which made Van Bibber think that she
was speaking of some religious body to which he belonged. But the
organist made his profession clear by explaining that the committee had
just invited him to oblige the company with a solo on the piano, but
that he had been hitting the champagne so hard that he doubted if he
could tell the keys from the pedals, and he added that if they'd excuse
him he would go to sleep, which he immediately did with his head on the
shoulder of the lady recitationist, who tactfully tried not to notice
that he was there.

They were all waltzing again, and as Van Bibber guided his partner for
a second time around the room, he noticed a particularly handsome girl
in a walking-dress, who was doing some sort of a fancy step with a
solemn, grave-faced young man in the hotel livery. They seemed by their
manner to know each other very well, and they had apparently practised
the step that they were doing often before.

The girl was much taller than the man, and was superior to him in every
way. Her movements were freer and less conscious, and she carried her
head and shoulders as though she had never bent them above a broom. Her
complexion was soft and her hair of the finest, deepest auburn. Among
all the girls upon the floor she was the most remarkable, even if her
dancing had not immediately distinguished her.

The step which she and her partner were exhibiting was one that probably
had been taught her by a professor of dancing at some East Side academy,