ed there did not seem to be
anything French about him except his name.

The class opened with various exercises, which Pennie was able to do
pretty well by dint of paying earnest attention to the child immediately
in front of her, but soon some steps followed which she knew nothing
about. She stood in perplexity, trying to gather some idea from the
hopping springing figures around her. They had all learnt dancing
before, and found no difficulty in what looked to her a hopeless puzzle.
"Bend the knees, young ladies!" shouted Monsieur Deville above the
squeaking of his fiddle. "Slide gently. Keep the head erect. _Very_
good, Miss Smithers. The wrong foot, Miss Hawthorne. Draw in the chin;
dear, dear, that won't do at all,"--stopping suddenly.

Miss Lacy now advanced to inform Monsieur that Miss Hawthorne was quite
a beginner, at which every member of the class turned her head and
looked at Pennie. What a hateful thing a dancing lesson was!

"Ah! we shall soon improve, no doubt," said Monsieur cheerfully; "the
great thing is to practise the exercises thoroughly--to make the form
supple and elastic. Without that as a foundation we can do nothing.
With it we can do wonders. Miss Hawthorne had better try that step
alone. The rest stand-still."

Pennie would have given the world to run out of the room, but she
grasped her dress courageously, and fixing a desperate eye on Monsieur's
movements, copied them as well as she could.

"That will do for the present. All return to your seats. The Miss
Smiths will now dance `_Les Deux Armes_.'"

Two sisters, old pupils of Monsieur Deville, advanced with complacency
into the middle of the room.

"A little fancy dance composed by myself," said the dancing-master,
turning to Miss Lacy as he played a preliminary air, "supposed to
represent the quarrel and reconciliation of two friends, introducing
steps from the minuet and gavotte. It has been considered a graceful
trifle."

Pennie gazed in awe-struck wonder at the Miss Smiths as they moved with
conscious grace and certainty through the various figures of the dance,
now curtsying haughtily to each other, now with sudden abruptness
turning their backs and pirouetting down the room on the very tips of
their toes; now advancing, now retreating, now on the very point of
reconciliation, and now bounding apart as though nothing were further
from their thoughts. Finally, after the spectators for some time in
doubt as to the