good gracious! In private it was called "foolery," in
public "scandalous."

Ella had made a spectacle of herself. Her own dismay was immeasurable.
No girl that she knew was less given to tears than herself; that she
was certain of. She had as great a dread as any one of being looked
at, or talked about. What in the world was it then? She was fond of
music, certainly; she played herself, but she did not believe that she
had any remarkable gift. Why, then, should she especially have been
overcome by his song? What must he think of the silly girl? This
thought troubled her most, and on this point she dare not confide in
any one. Most people concluded that she had been ill, and she actually
did keep indoors for a few days, and looked pale when she reappeared.
Her friends teased her about it, but she let the matter drop.

In the winter there were several children's dances, one of which was
at "Andresen's at the corner," and Ella was there. Just at the
conclusion of the second quadrille, she heard whispered "Aksel Aaroe,
Aksel Aaroe!" and there he stood at the door, with three other young
fellows behind him. The hostess was his elder sister. The four had
come up from a card party to look on.

Ella felt a thrill of delight, and at the same time her knees
threatened to give way under her. She could neither see, nor
understand clearly, but she felt great eyes on her. She was engrossed
in a fold of her dress which did not hang properly, when he stood
before her and said, "What a beautiful plait you have." His voice
seemed to sprinkle it with gold-dust. He put out his hand as though he
were going to touch it, but instead of doing so he stroked his beard.
When he noticed her extreme timidity, he turned away. Several times
during the evening she felt conscious of his presence; but he did not
come up to her again.

The other men took part in the dancing, but Aaroe did not dance. There
was something about him which she thought specially charming; a
reserved air of distinction, a polish in his address, a deference of
that quiet kind which alone could have appealed to her. His walk gave
the impression that he kept half his strength in reserve, and this was
the same in everything. He was tall, but not broad-shouldered; the
small, somewhat narrow head, set on a rather long neck. She had never
before noticed the way in which he turned his head. She felt now that
there could be something, yes, almost musical about it.

The room, and a