Looking much gratified, Tom produced the stump of a lead-pencil, and wrote his name with a flourish, saying, as he gave it back,—
"Now I'm going to get Sherry, or some of the fellows that do the redowa well, so you can have a real good go before the music stops."
Off went Tom; but before he could catch any eligible partner, Polly was provided with the best dancer in the room. Mr. Sydney had seen and heard the whole thing; and though he had laughed quietly, he liked honest Tom and good-natured Polly all the better for their simplicity. Polly's foot was keeping time to the lively music, and her eyes were fixed wistfully on the smoothly-gliding couples before her, when Mr. Sydney came to her, saying, in the pleasant, yet respectful way she liked so much,—
"Miss Polly, can you give me a turn?"
"Oh, yes; I'm dying for another." And Polly jumped up, with both hands out, and such a grateful face, that Mr. Sydney resolved she should have as many turns as she liked.
This time all went well; and Tom, returning from an unsuccessful search, was amazed to behold Polly circling, gracefully about the room, guided by a most accomplished partner.
"Ah, that's something like," he thought, as he watched the bronze boots retreating and advancing in perfect time to the music. "Don't see how Sydney does the steering so well; but it must be fun; and, by Jupiter! I'll learn it!" added Shaw, Jr., with an emphatic gesture which burst the last button off his gloves.
