hat no heathen goddess received so much adoration and admiration
as was bestowed on "Turpsichor" by Mr Poulter and Miss Nippett. To
these simple souls, it was the finest work of art to be found anywhere
in the world, while the younger amongst the pupils regarded the forlorn
statue with considerable awe.

When a move was made to the ballroom, Miss Nippett whispered to Mavis:

"If Mr Poulter wins the great cotillion prize competition 'e's goin' in
for, I 'ope to stand 'Turpsichor' a clean, and a new coat of paint."

When all three had waited in the ballroom some minutes, the pupils for
the night classes straggled in, the "gentlemen" bringing their dancing
shoes in their overcoat pockets, the "ladies" theirs, either in
net-bags or wrapped in odd pieces of brown paper. These "ladies" were
much of a type, being either shop-girls or lady clerks, with a
sprinkling of maid-servants and board school teachers. They were
pale-faced, hard-working, over-dressed young women who read Marie
Corelli, and considered her "deep"; who had one adjective with which to
express appreciation of things, this "artistic"; anything they
condemned was spoken of as "awful"; one and all liked to be considered
what they called "up-to-date." Marriage they desired more than anything
else in the world, not so much that they wished to live in an
atmosphere of affection, but because they believed that state promised
something of a respite from their never-ending, poorly recompensed
toil. The "gentlemen" were mostly shopmen or weekly paid clerks with
social aspirations; they carried silver cigarette cases, which they
exhibited on the least provocation.

Mavis played, whilst Mr Poulter put the pupils through their steps. She
had no eyes for the dancers, these not interesting her; her attention,
of which she had plenty to spare, was fixed upon the kindly, beaming
face and the agile limbs of Mr Poulter. It was a pleasure to watch him,
he so thoroughly enjoyed his work; he could not take enough pains to
instruct his pupils in the steps that they should take. Miss Nippett
sat beside Mavis. Presently, in a few minutes' interval between the
dances, the former said:

"Don't you ever be a fool an' teach dancing."

"Why 'a fool'?" asked Mavis.

"Look at me an' the way I 'obble; it's all the fault of teaching the
'gentlemen.'"

"Indeed!"

"The 'gentlemen' is such clumsy fellers; they always tread on my right
foot. I tried wearing flannel, but they come down o