heir
Christmas ball.

A Russian prince condescended to sit in a corner for an hour and talk
with a massive lady, dressed like Hamlet's mother in black velvet with
a pearl bridle under her chin. A Polish count, aged eighteen, devoted
himself to the ladies, who pronounced him, 'a fascinating dear', and a
German Serene Something, having come to supper alone, roamed vaguely
about, seeking what he might devour. Baron Rothschild's private
secretary, a large-nosed Jew in tight boots, affably beamed upon the
world, as if his master's name crowned him with a golden halo. A stout
Frenchman, who knew the Emperor, came to indulge his mania for dancing,
and Lady de Jones, a British matron, adorned the scene with her little
family of eight. Of course, there were many light-footed,
shrill-voiced American girls, handsome, lifeless-looking English ditto,
and a few plain but piquante French demoiselles, likewise the usual set
of traveling young gentlemen who disported themselves gaily, while
mammas of all nations lined the walls and smiled upon them benignly
when they danced with their daughters.

Any young girl can imagine Amy's state of mind when she 'took the
stage' that night, leaning on Laurie's arm. She knew she looked well,
she loved to dance, she felt that her foot was on her native heath in a
ballroom, and enjoyed the delightful sense of power which comes when
young girls first discover the new and lovely kingdom they are born to
rule by virtue of beauty, youth, and womanhood. She did pity the Davis
girls, who were awkward, plain, and destitute of escort, except a grim
papa and three grimmer maiden aunts, and she bowed to them in her
friendliest manner as she passed, which was good of her, as it
permitted them to see her dress, and burn with curiosity to know who
her distinguished-looking friend might be. With the first burst of the
band, Amy's color rose, her eyes began to sparkle, and her feet to tap
the floor impatiently, for she danced well and wanted Laurie to know
it. Therefore the shock she received can better be imagined than
described, when he said in a perfectly tranquil tone, "Do you care to
dance?"

"One usually does at a ball."

Her amazed look and quick answer caused Laurie to repair his error as
fast as possible.

"I meant the first dance. May I have the honor?"

"I can give you one if I put off the Count. He dances devinely, but he
will excuse me, as you are an old friend," said Amy, hoping that