d pulled up at
last by Southampton Row. Then they walked through a maze of narrow
streets to Madame Aldavini's school, in Great Queen Street. No longer
can it be found; whatever ghosts of dead _coryphees_ haunt the portals
must spend a draughty purgatory in the very middle of Kingsway.

It was a tall, gray Georgian house, with flat windows and narrow sills
and a suitable cornice of dancing Loves and Graces over the door, which
had a large brass plate engraved with "School of Dancing," and more
bells beside it than Jenny had ever seen beside one door in her life.
She thought what games could be played with Great Queen Street and its
inhabitants, if it were in Islington and all the houses had as many
bells. Mr. Vergoe pressed a button labeled "Aldavini," and presently
they were walking along a dark, dusty passage into a little paneled room
with a large desk and pictures of dancers in every imaginable kind of
costume. At the desk sat Madame Aldavini herself in a dress of tawny
satin. Jenny thought she looked like an organ-woman, with her dark,
wrinkled face and glittering black eyes.

"And how is Mr. Vergoe?" she inquired.

"How are _you_, Madame?" he replied, with great deference.

"I am very well, thank you."

Mrs. Raeburn was presented and dropped her umbrella in embarrassment,
making Jenny feel very much ashamed of her mother and wish she were
alone with Mr. Vergoe. Then she was introduced herself, and as Madame
Aldavini fixed her with a piercing eye, Jenny felt so shy that she was
only able to murmur incoherent politeness to the floor.

The dancing-mistress got up from her desk and looked critically at the
proposed pupil.

"You think the child will make a dancer?" she said, turning sharply to
Mrs. Raeburn.

"Oh, well, really I--well, she's always jigging about, if that's
anything to go by."

Madame Aldavini gave a contemptuous sniff.

"I think she will make a very good dancer," Mr. Vergoe put in.

"You've seen her?"

"Many times," he said. "In fact, this visit is due to me--in a manner of
speaking."

"Come, we'll see what she can do," said the mistress, and led the way
out of the little room along a glass-covered arcade into the
dancing-room.

The latter was probably a Georgian ballroom with fine proportions and
Italian ceiling. A portion of it was curtained off for the pupils to
change into practice dress, and all the way round the walls was a rail
for toe-dancing. At the far end was a dais with a