cknowledge such a marvelous greeting of her
insignificant self. Then the music started up in the ball room at the
other end of the hall, and she moved away with all the rest of the
Party toward the sound, at Mr. Bennet's side, still quite unable to
find her generally so-ready tongue.

"Shall we dance?" asked Mr. Bennet courteously, as they walked. His
voice was another of his distinct attractions, rather deep and with the
slightest possible drawl.

Arethusa paused just under the broad arch of the ball-room doorway,
and so Mr. Bennet paused also, to watch the dancers for a moment, all
of them bending and turning and twisting to a tune of such impelling
rhythm that it would have made a wooden-legged man almost to attempt
the impossible, and then to curse his fate; then she lifted troubled
eyes to Mr. Bennet.

"But I don't dance what they're dancing."

"Oh, yes, you do, I'm sure," with the intimation in his tone that she
was sure to be the very best dancer on the floor. "It's only the
one-step."

Arethusa could not help but laugh.

"Well, it certainly doesn't look anything like the one-step that _I_
know! You see, Mr. Bennet, I've never been to any Parties. Timothy
just taught me some down in our barn." She was beginning to feel a
little less awed by his magnificence as a Man, for he was, after all,
human, and quite inclined to be kind.

"Then let me give you another lesson, now.... Do, please. You won't
really need it as a lesson though, I know."

Still she hesitated. Yet her feet unconsciously kept time to the gay
music as she stood, just watching.

"Surely you won't confer a favor on this Timothy person you'd deny to
me," and Arethusa was quite convinced there was a wee tinge of
reproachful jealousy in Mr. Bennet's attractive voice. "I may not prove
to be so good a teacher as he is, but I shall certainly do my best."

Arethusa laughed again; with real merriment this time.

The very idea of Timothy as a better teacher of anything than this
Wonderful Mr. Bennet!

The picture of herself in those blue print dresses she wore around the
Farm and Timothy in khaki trousers and blue flannel shirt, hopping
about on the barn floor (which, though clean-swept and smooth, was
hardly meant for dancing) to tunes which were hummed and whistled by
each alternately, rose before her; and she compared it in its utter
inferiority with this picture of herself in this Heavenly Green Frock
and Mr. Bennet in his Perfect Evening C