of his. And to the man there came a moment of sheer intoxication, as though he drank and drank of a sparkling, inspiriting wine that lured him, that thrilled him, that enslaved him.
It was just when the sensation had reached its height that the music suddenly quickened for the finish. That brought him very effectually to earth. He ceased to dance and led her aside.
She turned her bright face to him for a moment, in her eyes the dazed, incredulous look of one awaking from an enthralling dream. "Oh, can't we dance it out?" she said, as if she pleaded against being aroused.
He shook his head. "I never dance to a finish. It's too much like the clown's turn after the transformation scene. It is bathos on the top of the superb. At least it would be in this case. Who in wonder taught you to dance like that?"
Dinah opened her eyes a little wider and gave him the Homage of shy admiration; but she met a look in return that amazed her, that sent the blood in a wild unreasoning race to her heart. For those eyes of burning, ardent blue had suddenly told her something, something that no eyes had ever told her before. It was incredible but true. Homage had met homage, aye, and more than homage. There was mastery in his look; but there was also wonder and a curious species of half-grudging reverence. She had amazed him, this witch with the sparkling eyes that shone so alluringly under the scarlet kerchief. She had swept him as it were with a fan of flame. She had made him live. And he had pronounced her ordinary!
"I have always loved to dance," she said in answer to his almost involuntary question. "Do you like my dancing? I'm so glad."
"Like it!" He laughed with an odd shamefacedness. "I could dance with you the whole evening. But I should probably end by making a fool of myself like a man who has had too much champagne."
Dinah laughed. She had an exhilarating sense of having achieved a conquest undreamed of. She also was feeling a little giddy, a little uncertain of the ground under her feet.
"Do you know," she said, dropping her eyes instinctively before the fiery intensity of his, "I've never danced with a man before? I—I was a little afraid just at first lest you should find me—gawky."
"Ye gods!" said Sir Eustace. "And you have really never danced with a man before! Tell me! How did you like it?"
"It was—heavenly!" said Dinah, drawing a deep breath.
"Will you dance with me again?" he asked.
She nodded. "Yes."
"The very next dance?"
She nodded again. "Yes."
"And again after that?" said Sir Eustace.
She threw him a glance half-shy, half-daring. "Don't you think it might be too much for you?"
He laughed. "I'll risk it if you will."
She turned towards him with a small, confidential gesture. "What about
Rose de Vigne?" she said. "Don't you want to dance with her?"
"Oh, presently," he said. "She'll keep."
Dinah broke into her high, sweet laugh. "And what about—all my other partners?" she said, with more assurance.
He bent to her. "They must keep too. Seriously, you don't want to dance with any other fellow, do you?"
"I'm not a bit serious," said Dinah.
"Do you?" he insisted.
She lifted her eyes momentarily.
"You don't?" he insinuated.
She surrendered without conditions. "Of course I don't."
"Then you mustn't," he said. "Consider yourself booked to me for to-night, and when you're not dancing with me, you can rest. Sit out with Scott if you like! Will you do that?"
"Why?" whispered Dinah.
Again her heart was beating very fast; she wondered why.
He answered her with an impetuosity that seemed to carry her along with it. "Because your dancing is superb, magnificent, and I want to keep it for myself. It may not be the same when you've danced with another man. A flower fresh plucked is always sweeter than one that someone else has worn."
Dinah's hands clasped each other unconsciously. She had never dreamed that Apollo could so stoop to favour her.
"I will do as you like," she murmured after a moment. "But I don't suppose for an instant that anyone else would want to dance with me. I don't know anyone else."
He smiled. "I'm glad of that. It would be sheer sacrilege for you to dance with a young oaf who didn't know how. It's a bargain then. I'll give you all I can. You mustn't tell, of course."
"Oh, I won't tell," laughed Dinah.
He gave her his arm. "They are tuning up. We won't lose a minute. I always like a clear floor, before the rabble begin."
He led her to the top of the room, stood for a moment; then, as the music began, caught her to him, and they floated once more into the shining, enchanted mazes of their dreamland.
And Dinah danced as one inspired, for it seemed to her that her feet moved upon air as though winged. Apollo had drawn her up to Olympus, and she drifted in his arm in spheres unknown, far above the clouds.
CHAPTER VI
CINDERELLA
"Come and sit down!" said Scott.
Dinah gave a little start. She was standing close to him, but she had not seen him. She looked at him for a second with far-away eyes, as if she did not know him.
Then recognition flashed into them. She smiled an eager greeting. "Oh, Mr. Studley, I want to thank you for the very happiest evening of my life."
He smiled also as he sat down beside her. "You are enjoying yourself?"
"Oh yes, indeed I am!" she assured him. "Thank you a hundred million times!"
"Why thank me?" questioned Scott.
She drew a long, long breath. "Because you were the magician who pulled the strings. I should never have got dressed in the first place but for you."
He gave a laugh of amused protest. "Oh, surely! I don't feel I deserve that!"
She laughed with him. "You did it anyhow. And in the second place you got me out of a villainous bad temper and turned an ugly goblin into a very happy butterfly. I'm downright ashamed of myself for being so horrid about Rose de Vigne. She isn't at all a bad sort though she is so impossibly beautiful. Your brother is going to dance with her now. See! There they go!"
She looked after them with a smile of complete content.
"You're
