ed
school, and there were other girls and their brothers, who seemed on
familiar terms with the Morwoods. They were already dancing in the
drawing-room, while Blanche, Marion's cousin, played the piano for them.
It did not take long for Lesbia to be introduced to the jolly company,
and she was soon whirling round with a partner. Lesbia loved dancing. To
some people it is as much a natural gift as singing or painting. To move
to the rhythm of music was perhaps an old Celtic tendency cropping out
in her composition. She felt sometimes like Karen in Hans Andersen's
story of _The Little Red Shoes_: when she heard a lively tune her feet
just danced of themselves. The Morwoods' drawing-room was large, and
they had moved tables and chairs back against the wall, so there was
plenty of space for enjoyment. Half an hour seemed to fly like ten
minutes.

"Go! What ridiculous rubbish! Why, you've only just come!" remonstrated
Marion, when her friend, with many apologies, began to say good-bye.
"Lesbia! I simply shan't _let_ you! Here's Bobby Craven longing to
dance with you. You can't say no. I shall be absolutely offended if you
tear away now. Yes, I mean it!"

Three children and a bath-towel tugged one way, and Bobby Craven's
expectant face the other. Marion's threatened wrath tipped up the
balance.

"The children will have to go to bed a little later to-night, that's
all," thought Lesbia hastily, as the music began again and Bobby offered
his arm.

At seven o'clock, however, her conscience smote her. She refused any
more offers of partners and was in a panic to get away.

"Why, my dear," said Mrs. Morwood, passing through the hall where Lesbia
was hastily changing her shoes. "You're surely not leaving us? We're
going to have supper directly."

"She says she can't stay, Mums," explained Marion. "They want her at
home. Oh, it's a shame! I never felt so angry in my life. I could just
slay those wretched Hilton children--spoiling all Lesbia's fun.
Good-bye, dearest! I call you an absolute martyr. I tell you I'm
raging."

Lesbia ran all the way home, and let herself in by the side door. She
hung her hat on the hat-stand and hurried upstairs. Sounds of splashing
issued from the bath-room. She entered, and found Julie and Bunty
holding a water carnival inside the bath, while Minnie, in flannel
apron, with a flushed, tired face, was soaping Steve's curls.

"Where have you been?" she exclaimed, as the truant put in an appearanc