ed in holding her hand even the smallest part of an
instant, and yet I was sure she liked me very much; almost sure she
loved me. She feared I might unhinge it and carry it away, or
something of that sort, I suppose. When I went up and asked her to let
me teach her the new dance, she said:

"I thank you, Edwin; but there are others who are more anxious to
learn than I, and you had better teach them first."

"But I want to teach you. When I wish to teach them I will go to
them."

"You did go to several others before you thought of coming to me,"
answered Jane, pretending to be piqued. Now that was the unkindest
thing I ever knew a girl to do--refuse me what she knew I so wanted,
and then put the refusal on the pretended ground that I did not care
much about it. I so told her, and she saw she had carried things too
far, and that I was growing angry in earnest. She then made another
false, though somewhat flattering, excuse:

"I could not bear to go through that dance before so large a company.
I should not object so much if no one else could see--that is, with
you--Edwin." "Edwin!" Oh! so soft and sweet! The little jade! to think
that she could hoodwink me so easily, and talk me into a good humor
with her soft, purring "Edwin." I saw through it all quickly enough,
and left her without another word. In a few minutes she went into an
adjoining room where I knew she was alone. The door was open and the
music could be heard there, so I followed.

"My lady, there is no one to see us here; I can teach you now, if you
wish," said I.

She saw she was cornered, and replied, with a toss of her saucy little
head: "But what if I do not wish?"

Now this was more than I could endure with patience, so I answered:
"My young lady, you shall ask me before I teach you."

"There are others who can dance it much better than you," she
returned, without looking at me.

"If you allow another to teach you that dance," I responded, "you will
have seen the last of me." She had made me angry, and I did not speak
to her for more than a week. When I did--but I will tell you of that
later on. There was one thing about Jane and the new step: so long as
she did not know it, she would not dance it with any other man, and
foolish as my feeling may have been, I could not bear the thought of
her doing it. I resolved that if she permitted another man to teach
her that dance it should be all over between us. It was a terrible
thought to me, that of