won't mind?" she added, giving her companion a
radiant smile.

"Not at all. I've had a lovely waltz." He strolled off.

Cowperwood sat down. "That's young Ledoux, isn't it? I thought so. I saw
you dancing. You like it, don't you?"

"I'm crazy about it."

"Well, I can't say that myself. It's fascinating, though. Your partner
makes such a difference. Mrs. Cowperwood doesn't like it as much as I
do."

His mention of Lillian made Aileen think of her in a faintly derogative
way for a moment.

"I think you dance very well. I watched you, too." She questioned
afterwards whether she should have said this. It sounded most forward
now--almost brazen.

"Oh, did you?"

"Yes."

He was a little keyed up because of her--slightly cloudy in his
thoughts--because she was generating a problem in his life, or would
if he let her, and so his talk was a little tame. He was thinking of
something to say--some words which would bring them a little nearer
together. But for the moment he could not. Truth to tell, he wanted to
say a great deal.

"Well, that was nice of you," he added, after a moment. "What made you
do it?"

He turned with a mock air of inquiry. The music was beginning again. The
dancers were rising. He arose.

He had not intended to give this particular remark a serious turn; but,
now that she was so near him, he looked into her eyes steadily but with
a soft appeal and said, "Yes, why?"

They had come out from behind the palms. He had put his hand to her
waist. His right arm held her left extended arm to arm, palm to palm.
Her right hand was on his shoulder, and she was close to him, looking
into his eyes. As they began the gay undulations of the waltz she looked
away and then down without answering. Her movements were as light
and airy as those of a butterfly. He felt a sudden lightness himself,
communicated as by an invisible current. He wanted to match the
suppleness of her body with his own, and did. Her arms, the flash and
glint of the crimson sequins against the smooth, black silk of her
closely fitting dress, her neck, her glowing, radiant hair, all combined
to provoke a slight intellectual intoxication. She was so vigorously
young, so, to him, truly beautiful.

"But you didn't answer," he continued.

"Isn't this lovely music?"

He pressed her fingers.

She lifted shy eyes to him now, for, in spite of her gay, aggressive
force, she was afraid of him. His personality was obviously so
dominating. No