ould. Teaching would interfere so with her
amusements. Finally Idalene sighed:

"Oh, well, all right! Call it fifty cents straight. When can I come over
to your house?"

"To my house?" gasped Prue. "Papa doesn't approve of my dancing. I'll
come to yours."

"Oh no, you won't," gasped Idalene. "My father doesn't dream that I
dance. I'm going to let him sleep as long as I can."

Here was a plight! Mrs. Judge Hippisley strolled up and demanded,
"What's all this whispering about?"

They explained their predicament. Mrs. Hippisley thought it was a
perfectly wonderful idea to take lessons. She would let Prue teach
Idalene in her parlor if Prue would teach her at the same time for
nothing.

"Unless you think I'm too old and stupid to learn," she added,
fishingly.

Prue put a catfish on her hook: "Oh, Mrs. Hippisley, I've seen women
much older and fatter and stupider than you dancing in Chicago."

While the hours of tuition were being discussed Bertha Appleby tiptoed
up to eavesdrop, and pleaded to be accepted as a pupil. And she forced
on the timorous Prue a quarter as her matriculation fee.

Orton Hippisley beau'd Prue home that night, and they paused in an
arcade of maples to practise a new step she had been composing in the
back of her head.

He was an apt pupil, and when they had resumed their homeward stroll she
neglected to make him take his arm away. Encouraged, he tried to kiss
her when they reached the gate. She cuffed him again, but this time her
buffet was almost a caress. She sighed:

"I can't get very mad at you, you're such a quick student. I hope your
mother will learn as fast."

"My mother!" he exclaimed.

"Yes. She wants me to teach her the one-step."

"Don't you dare!"

"And why not?" she asked, with sultry calm.

"Do you think I'll let my mother carry on like that? Well, hardly!"

"Oh, so what I do isn't good enough for your mother!"

"I don't mean just that; but can't you see--Wait a minute--"

She slammed the gate on his outstretched fingers and he went home
fondling his wound.

The next day he strolled by the parlor door at his own home, but Prue
would not speak to him and his mother was too busy to invite him in. It
amazed him to see how humble his haughty mother was before the hitherto
neglected Prue.

Prue would have felt sorrier for him if she had not been so exalted over
her earnings.

She had not let on at home about her class till she could lay the proof
of her success