“Lovely! I do wish I ever could learn to keep time and not jerk and bounce. Being plump is a dreadful trial,” sighed Fanny Fletcher, as Jessie came back beaming and breathless. “Perhaps I can teach you. I think of making this my profession since I must do something. Mademoiselle earns heaps of money by it,” she said, sitting down to rest, resolved not to be ashamed of her work or to let Fanny pity her. “I wish you COULD teach me, for I know I shall disgrace myself at the Kirmess. You've heard about it, of course? So sorry you can't take a part, for it's going to be great fun and very splendid. I am in the Hungarian dance, and it's one of the hardest; but the dress is lovely, and I would be in it. Mamma is the matron of it; so I had my way, though I know the girls don't want me, and the boys make fun of me. Just see if this isn't the queerest step you ever beheld!” Fanny started bravely across the wide smooth floor, with a stamp, a slide, and a twirl which was certainly odd, but might have been lively and graceful if she had not unfortunately been a very plump, awkward girl, with no more elasticity than a feather-bed. Jessie found it impossible not to laugh when Fanny ended her display with a sprawl upon the floor, and sat rubbing her elbows in an attitude of despair. “I know that dance! It is the tzardas, and I can show you how it should be done. Jump up and try it with me!” she said good-naturedly, running to help her friend up, glad to have a partner of her own size for once. Away they went, but soon stopped; for Fanny could not keep step, and Jessie pulled and stamped and hummed in vain. “Do it alone; then I can see how it goes, and manage better next time,” panted the poor girl, dropping down upon the velvet seat which ran round the hall. Mademoiselle had come in and watched them for a moment. She saw at once what was needed, and as Mrs. Fletcher was one of her best patrons, she was glad to oblige the oldest daughter; so she went to the piano and struck up the proper air just as Jessie, with one arm on her hip, the other on the shoulder of an invisible partner, went down the hall with a martial stamp, a quick slide, and a graceful turn, in perfect time to the stirring music that made her nerves tingle and her feet fly. To and fro, round and round, with all manner of graceful gestures, intricate steps, and active bounds went the happy girl, quite carried away by the music and motion of the pastime she loved so much. Fanny clapped her hands with admiration, and Mademoiselle cried, “Bien, tres bien, charmante, ma cherie!” as she paused at last, rosy and smiling, with one hand on her heart and the other at her temple with the salute that closed the dance.