"I don't think he meant to boast of it," she said: "He spoke of it
quite calmly."

George stared at her for a moment in perplexity, then perceiving that
her intention was satirical, "Girls really ought to go to a man's
college," he said--"just a month or two, anyhow; It'd take some of the
freshness out of 'em!"

"I can't believe it," she retorted, as her partner for the next dance
arrived. "It would only make them a little politer on the surface--
they'd be really just as awful as ever, after you got to know them a
few minutes."

"What do you mean: 'after you got to know them a--'"

She was departing to the dance. "Janie and Mary Sharon told me all
about what sort of a little boy you were," she said, over her
shoulder. "You must think it out!" She took wing away on the breeze
of the waltz, and George, having stared gloomily after her for a few
moments, postponed filling an engagement, and strolled round the
fluctuating outskirts of the dance to where his uncle, George
Amberson, stood smilingly watching, under one of the rose-vine arches
at the entrance to the room.

"Hello, young namesake," said the uncle. "Why lingers the laggard
heel of the dancer? Haven't you got a partner?"

"She's sitting around waiting for me somewhere," said George. "See
here: Who is this fellow Morgan that Aunt Fanny Minafer was dancing