“Dancing class, where you meet all the young ladies you know, Miss Beth, has to be dressed for much the same,” said Frieda. “This is only what a quite young young lady like you must wear; just fine white things.” “Then do let me hurry to see Natalie and Alys,” cried Beth. Frieda wrapped Beth in a long, loose cloak and she found Natalie and Alys’s splendors similarly eclipsed when she came out and met them in the hall. At the dancing school she forgot to notice what they wore, but she saw that Alys had never before been so pretty, and Natalie was as handsome as a tanager. The room was full of girls, all so exquisite in tints of hair, eyes, cheeks and clothes that Beth forgot her own white daintiness. “It is only more fairy-land,” she thought. “Aunt Alida was right; she had to make me a fairy, too, or they’d have driven me back to mortals.” Natalie and Alys introduced Beth to girl after girl, brought boys to her and introduced them also, and, worst of all, took Beth to ladies who were sitting about the room and introduced her to them as their cousin who was spending the winter with them. Beth grew so confused that she hardly knew how to carry herself. “I know you hate it, Bethie, but they are mama’s friends and she would like it; besides, if there are any children’s parties this winter--and there will be--you must be asked,” whispered Natalie. “Now you go into the practice class for beginners, and when the time comes to dance Alys and I will dance with you, to start you. Then you must accept every invitation you get to dance; it’s polite and practice, too.” Bewildered Beth found herself in a line with much smaller children taking steps forward, back, to the right, to the left, following the tireless motions of a small man who set the children example in front of the line, gesticulating to mark time, and moving so lightly that Beth wondered if he had the usual sort of feet. The music to which the class danced was rendered by a beautiful piano, violin and flute trio. After she grew accustomed to being where she was, Beth began to hear it better, and, hearing it, she lost consciousness of herself, and danced. The girls’ teaching had been good; followed now by the winging effect of the entrancing music it took Beth out of the awkwardness of beginning. When the line stopped practice and the teacher gave the signal to dance Natalie and Alys flew to Beth. “We’re proud of you, Beth!” cried Natalie. “You’re going to make a dancer! You quiet little mouse, who’d have thought you’d have done so well!” “I don’t know. Hurry up, Natalie, let me dance!” cried Beth with sparkling eyes. She danced and danced, not always well, because there were ever so many dances that she did not know, but with an enjoyment that made her partners forgive her mistakes. She never actually danced badly, because her ear for rhythm carried her through.