out 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.

Polly enjoyed herself till the music stopped; and before she had time to
thank Mr. Sydney as warmly as she wished, Tom came up to say, with his
most lordly air, "You dance splendidly, Polly. Now, you just show me any
one you like the looks of, and I 'll get him for you, no matter who he
is."

"I don't want any of the gentlemen; they are so stiff, and don't care
to dance with me; but I like those boys over there, and I 'll dance with
any of them if they are willing," said Polly, after a survey.

"I 'll trot out the whole lot." And Tom gladly brought up his friends,
who all admired Polly immensely, and were proud to be chosen instead of
the "big fellows."

There was no sitting still for Polly after that, for the lads kept her
going at a great pace; and she was so happy, she never saw or suspected
how many little manoeuvres, heart-burnings, displays of vanity,
affectation, and nonsense were going on all round her. She loved
dancing, and entered into the gayety of the scene with a heartiness that
was pleasant to see. Her eyes shone, her face glowed, her lips smiled,
and the brown curls waved in the air, as she danced, with a heart as
light as her feet.

"Are you enjoying yourself, Polly?" asked Mr. Shaw, who looked in, now
and then, to report to grandma that all was going well.

"Oh, such a splendid time!" cried Polly, with an enthusiastic little
gesture, as she chassed into the corner where he stood.

"She is a regular belle among the boys," said Fanny, as she promenaded
by.

"They are so kind in asking me and I 'm not afraid of them," explained
Polly, prancing, simply because she could n't keep still.

"So you are afraid of the young gentlemen, hey?" and Mr. Shaw held her
by one curl.

"All but Mr. Sydney. He don't put on airs and talk nonsense; and, oh! he
does 'dance like an angel,' as Trix says."

"Papa, I wish you 'd come and waltz with me. Fan told me not to go near
her, 'cause my wed dwess makes her pink one look ugly; and Tom won't;
and I want to dwedfully."

"I 've forgotten how, Maudie. Ask Polly; she 'll spin you round like a
tee