"But is that really the way you--they dance it? With your--their arm
around my--a lady's waist?"

"I should not have dared venture upon such a familiarity otherwise,"
answered Brandon, with a glimmer of a smile playing around his lips
and hiding in his eyes.

Mary saw this shadowy smile, and said: "Oh! I fear your modesty will
cause you hurt; I am beginning to believe you would dare do anything
you wish. I more than half suspect you are a very bold man,
notwithstanding your smooth, modest manner."

"You do me foul wrong, I assure you. I am the soul of modesty, and
grieve that you should think me bold," said Brandon, with a broadening
smile.

Mary interrupted him. "Now, I do believe you are laughing at me--at my
prudery, I suppose you think it."

Mary would rather have been called a fool than a prude, and I think
she was right. Prudery is no more a sign of virtue than a wig is of
hair. It is usually put on to hide a bald place.

The princess stood irresolute for a moment, in evident hesitation and
annoyance.

"You are grieving because I think you bold! And yet you stand there
laughing at me to my face. I think so more than ever now. I know it.
Oh, you make me angry! Don't! I do not like persons who anger me and
then laugh at me." This turned Brandon's smile into a laugh which he