Placing himself in the centre of the hall, Giovanni, with a bow to
the company, played a little prelude, and then struck into the
lively strains of the cachuca.

Cherry, who had stood looking at him, her head slightly bent, her
lips apart, eyes and ears alert to catch the signal to begin,
pointed her little foot at the precise moment, and, holding her
dress in the tips of her slender fingers, slid into the movement
with a grace and accuracy never to be attained except by vigorous
practice, or a temperament as sensitive to time and tune, limbs as
supple, and impulses as graceful, as were those of this gifted and
unfortunate child.

"See there!-the poor little thing!" exclaimed one of the ladies, who
came to the door of the drawing-room to see the performance.

"How can you say poor little thing?" asked another. "Don't you see
how she enjoys it herself? That smile is not the artificial grimace
of a ballet-dancer; and no eyes ever sparkled so joyously to order."

"Perhaps she does enjoy it; but all the more 'Poor little thing!'
say I," rejoined the first speaker, adding thoughtfully, "What sort
of training for a woman is that?"

"Oh, well! but it is very pretty to see her; and she would probably
be running in the streets, or doing worse, if she did not dance; and
so little as she is! It is equal to the theatre."

The speaker drew out her purse as she spoke, and carelessly threw a