ano. I learned what I know by
practising at the different studios."

"Do you dance?" asked Eugene.

"Yes, indeed," she replied.

"I wish I did," he commented ruefully.

"Why don't you? It's easy. You could learn in no time. I could teach you
in a lesson."

"I wish you would," he said persuasively.

"It isn't hard," she went on, moving away from him. "I can show you the
steps. They always begin with the waltz."

She lifted her skirts and exposed her little feet. She explained what to
do and how to do it. He tried it alone, but failed; so she got him to
put his arm around her and placed her hand in his. "Now, follow me," she
said.

It was so delightful to find her in his arms! And she was apparently in
no hurry to conclude the lesson, for she worked with him quite
patiently, explaining the steps, stopping and correcting him, laughing
at her mistakes and his. "You're getting it, though," she said, after
they had turned around a few times.

They had looked into each other's eyes a number of times and she gave
him frank smiles in return for his. He thought of the time when she
stood by him in the studio, looking over his shoulder. Surely, surely
this gap of formalities might be bridged over at once if he tried if he
had the courage. He pulled her a little closer and when they stopped he
did not let go.

"You're mighty sweet to me," he said with an effort.

"No, I'm just good natured," she laughed, not endeavoring to break away.

He became emotionally tense, as always.

She rather liked what seemed the superiority of his mood. It was
different, stronger than was customary in the men she knew.

"Do you like me?" he asked, looking at her.

She studied his face and hair and eyes.

"I don't know," she returned calmly.

"Are you sure you don't?"

There was another pause in which she looked almost mockingly at him and
then, sobering, away at the hall door.

"Yes, I think I do," she said.

He picked her up in his arms. "You're as cute as a doll," he said and
carried her to the red settee. She spent the rest of the rainy afternoon
resting in his arms and enjoying his kisses. He was a new and peculiar
kind of boy.

CHAPTER XI

A little while before, Angela Blue at Eugene's earnest solicitation had
paid her first Fall visit to Chicago. She had made a special effort to
come, lured by a certain poignancy of expression which he could give to
any thought, particularly when it concerned his desires. In