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My Little Lady by Eleanor Frances Poynter
page 18 of 490 (03%)
who have their share of the fun as they look in through the
open door. Round go the dancers, sliding and twirling on the
smooth polished floor, and Mademoiselle Cécile's fingers fly
indefatigably over the keys, as she sits nodding her head to
the music, and smiling as each familiar face glides past her.

Horace, who, after lingering awhile in the courtyard, had come
indoors like the rest of the world, stood apart at the further
end of the room, sufficiently entertained with looking on at
the scene, which had the charm of novelty to his English eyes,
and commenting to himself on the appearance of the dancers.

"But you do wrong not to dance, dear Monsieur, I assure you,"
said his Belgian friend, coming up to him at the end of a
polka, with the elderly Countess, who with her dingy lilac
barége gown exchanged for a dingier lilac silk, and her sandy
hair fuzzier than ever, had been dancing vigorously.
"Mademoiselle Cécile's music is delicious," he continued, "it
positively inspires one; let me persuade you to attempt just
one little dance."

"Indeed, I would rather look on," said Horace; "I can listen to
Mademoiselle Cécile's music all the same, and I do not care
much for dancing, as I told you; besides, I don't know anyone
here."

"If that be all," cried the other eagerly, "I can introduce
you to half a dozen partners in a moment; that lady that I
have just been dancing with, for instance, will be charmed----"

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