s so sweet, her eyes so terribly beautiful, her clasp so horribly
close, that whether he will or not he must join the fatal dance and keep
pace with her eager, frenzied movements. When morning comes the Wili has
gone back to her grave."

"And where is the young man?" asked Georgy.

"They find him dead on the grass," put in Thorpe, who was standing
behind Helen's chair. "It is death to dance with a Wili."

"Both of you seem very experienced young men," remarked Miss Lenox
calmly. "Did either of you ever meet with a Wili?"

"I have frequently met them on flowering meads," I returned, laughing,
"but when they invite me to dance I tell them I am unable to dance with
even the prettiest of live women, I am such a miserable cripple."

"It's rather a pretty story," mused Georgy, "but I don't quite see what
it means.--Do you, Helen?"

"It seems to be a sort of warning to young men to keep in o' nights,"
returned Helen with a droll little air.

"Dead women never trouble me," said Thorpe, "but I have had no end of
charming dances with live ones.--Do you waltz, Miss Floyd?"

"Oh yes. Miss Lenox and I waltz together whenever we can get any one to
play for us."

"That must be a tame amusement," rejoined Thorpe with an ineffable air
of conceit.

"Thanks for the neat compliment," said Georgy, "but neither Miss Floyd
nor myself suffer from the tameness."

"Oh, allow me to explain--"

"We are not so dull but that we can understand even the most stupid
bungle at a compliment of any awkward man," yawned Georgy. "Some time,
by and by, when I am very rich, and so old that I don't care what
happens nor how I offend my admirers, I intend to give to the world a
woman's opinion upon the fascinations of men."

"Bravo! I hope I may live a hundred or so years in order to hear it,"
said Mr. Floyd. "However, Miss Georgy, it would be safe enough for you
to tell us now that you hold men contemptible, only practising your
coquetries upon them for your own amusement, quite indifferent whether
your shafts hit or go astray. We could bear the ordeal, for we should
know very well that circumstances must vindicate us. We are, after all,
superior to even the highest simian types, and our poor fascinations
shine by comparison with those of even the most intelligent baboon; so
we should be certain that, in spite of your opinion of us, you would go
on making yourself beautiful for our approbation to the end of your
life, because you have, in fact,