WALTZ.

A little commotion about the door--a little mob of young men and boys--and a little spreading buzz and whisper--some hand-shakings--two or three introductions--then another buzz--and Bart made his way forward, with an air of being annoyed and bored and pushed forward as if to escape. He was under the inspiration of one of those sudden impulses upon which he acted, so sudden, often, as to seem not the result of mental process.

He discovered Mrs. Ford and Mrs. Markham, with Julia, Miss Walters, and several others, about them, whom he at once approached with the modest a.s.surance of a thorough-bred gentleman, safe in the certainty of a gracious reception, and conscious of power to please. A happy word to the two or three who made way for him, and he stood bowing and smiling, and turning and bowing to each with the nice discriminating tact that rendered to all their due.

Mrs. Ford graciously extended her hand, which he took, and bowed very low over; she was nearest him. Mrs. Markham, in a pleased surprise, gave him hers, and its reception was, to her nice perception, even more profoundly acknowledged. To Miss Markham and Miss Walters precisely the same, with a little of the chivalrous devotion of a knight to acknowledged beauty.

"The fall and _winter_ style prevails, I presume," he said, in gay banter, as if antic.i.p.ating that their gloved hands were not to be touched.

"Your memory is good, Mr. Ridgeley," said Julia, with a little laugh and a little flush.

"Forgetfulness is not my weakness," he replied.

"I was not aware you knew Mrs. Ford," said Mrs. Markham, observing the little flutter in Julia's cheeks, and thinking there was a meaning in Bart's _persiflage_.

"Mrs. Ford and General Ford," he answered with much warmth, "have been so very, very kind to me, that I have presumed to claim her acquaintance, even here; but then, they have only known me three months," with affected despair.

"Well," said Mrs. Ford, "what of that?"

"I find you with those who have known me all my life," with a deprecating look towards Mrs. Markham.

"Well, Mr. Ridgeley, you are not deserving of forbearance at my hands, if I only knew of anything bad to say of you."

"What exquisite irony! May I be permitted to know which of my thousand faults is now specially remembered against me?"

"You have not permitted me, until this moment, even to speak to you since your return last summer."

"May I ask that you will permit that to stand with my other misdemeanors until some rare fortune enables me to atone for all at once?"

"And when will that be?"

"Oh!

In that blissful never, When the Sundays come together, When the sun and glorious weather Wrap the earth in spring forever; As in that past time olden, Which poets call the golden."

Laughing.

"And so I have poetry, and inspire it myself--that is some compensation, certainly," said Mrs. Markham, smiling.

"I fear my verses have deepened my offence," said Bart, with affected gravity.

Kate Fisher intervened here: "Mr. Ridgeley, I have more cause for offence than even Mrs. Markham. Why didn't you come to my little party? I made it on your account."

"The offence was great," he answered, "but then staying away was ample punishment, as you must know."

"No, I don't know it. I know you weren't there, and your excuse was merely a regret, which always means one don't want to go."

"Oh, Mrs. Ford!" said Bart, "see what your coming here, or my coming here, exposes me to!"

"Have I heard the worst?"

"Well, you see, Mrs. Ford," said Kate, "that Mr. Ridgeley can waltz, and so can Miss Walters, and I made a little party to see them waltz, and he didn't come."

"That is grave. Will you leave it to me to pa.s.s judgment upon him?"

"I will."

"And do you submit, Mr. Ridgeley?"

"She's so very kind to you," remarked Mrs. Markham.

"I do," said the young man, "and will religiously perform the sentence."

"Well, it won't be a religious exercise--you are to waltz with Miss Walters, now and here."

A little clapping of little hands marked the righteousness of the award.

"Mrs. Ford," observed the culprit, "your judgment, as usual, falls heaviest on the innocent. Miss Walters, it remains for you to say whether this sentence shall be executed. If you will permit me the honor, I shall undergo execution with an edifying resignation."

The smiling girl frankly placed her hand in his: "I should be sorry to prevent justice," she said, which was also applauded.

Major Ridgeley was spoken to, and it was understood that the next dance would be a waltz, which had never before been more than named in a Yankee ball-room, on the Reserve; and it was antic.i.p.ated with curiosity, not unmixed with horror, by many.

The floor was cleared, a simple waltz air came from the band, and the pleased Miss Walters, in the arms of Barton, was whirled out from her mob of curious friends, on to and over the nearly vacant floor, the centre of all eyes, few of which had witnessed such a spectacle before. The music went on with its measured rise and fall, sweet and simple, and youth and maiden possessed with it, seemed to abandon themselves utterly to it, and were controlled and informed by it; with one impulse, one motion, and one grace, each contributing an exact proportion, they glided, circling; and while the maiden thus yielded and was sustained, her att.i.tude, so natural, graceful and womanly, had nothing languishing, voluptuous or sensuous; a sweet, unconscious girl, inspired by music and the poetry and grace of its controlling power, in the dance. Miss Walters dearly loved to dance, and above all to waltz. She had rarely met a partner who so exactly suited her step and style, and who so helped the inspiration she was apt to feel.

Bart had had little practice as a waltzer, but natural grace, and the presence of ladies, usually brought him to his best; and it was not in nature, perhaps, that he should not receive some inspiration from the beautiful girl, half given to his embrace, and wholly to his guidance.

So around and around through the hushed and admiring throng they went, whirling, turning, advancing, retreating, rising and falling, swaying and sinking, yet always in unison, and in rhythmic obedience to the music.

Sometimes the music rose loud and rapid, and then languished to almost dying away; but whatever its movement or time, it was embodied and realized by the beautiful pair, in their sweeping, graceful motions.

The maiden's face was wrapt with a sweet, joyous light in her half-shut eyes; his, pale, but lit up and softened in the lamp-light, seemed fairly beautiful, like a poet's.

"How beautiful!" "How exquisite!" from the ladies.

"What a dance for lovers!" said Mrs. Ford.

"They are lovers, are they not?" asked a lady from Warren.

"I think not," said Mrs. Markham, with a glance at Julia, who, never withdrawing her eyes, stood with lips slightly apart, and her face bright with unenvying admiration.

A little ripple--a murmur--and a decided clapping of hands around the room, with other sounds from the crowd at the entrance, marked the appreciation of the beautiful performance. The moment that this reached Barton, he led his delighted partner towards her group of friends, remarking: "Your admirers are sincere, Miss Walters, but too demonstrative, I fear."

"Oh, I don't mind it," said the straightforward girl.

"And I have to thank you for your courtesy to me," he went on, "and only hope that all my punishments may come in the same form."

"Mrs. Ford, is the judgment satisfied?"