"Why, it doesn't matter at all," I said negligently. "We both have been invited to this house to dance; that is to say, our hostess would not invite any objectionable persons. What you mean to say is, unconventional. And I hate convention and formality." "Are you a poet, then?"--with good-natured derision. "Oh, no; I have an earning capacity and a pleasant income." She really laughed this time; and I vaguely recalled pearls and coral and murmuring brooks. "Won't you please do that again?" I asked eagerly. But there must have been something in my gaze that frightened Mirth away, for she frowned. Faintly came the music from the ball-room. They were playing the waltzes from _The Queen's Lace Handkerchief_. The agony of an extemporization seized me. "Strauss!" I cried, flourishing the slipper. "The blue Danube, the moonshine on the water, the tittle-tattle of the leaves, a man and woman all, all alone! Romance, love, off to the wars!..." "It is a far cry to Cinderella," she interrupted. "Ah, yes. Music moves me so easily." "Indeed! It is scarcely noticeable,"--slyly. "Are you Cinderella, then?" "I do not say so." "Will you dance with me to prove it one way or the other?" "Certainly not,"--rather indignantly. "Why not?" "There are any number of reasons," she replied. "Name just one." "I do not know you." "You ought to,"--with a double meaning which went for nothing. "My angle of vision obscures that idea." "If you will stand up...." I hesitatingly suggested. "I am perfectly comfortable where I am,"--with an oblique glance at the doorway. "I am convinced that you are the Cinderella; I can not figure it out otherwise." "Do not figure at all; simply leave the shoe." "It is too near twelve o'clock for that. Besides, I wish to demolish the pumpkin theory. It's all tommy-rot about changing pumpkins into chariots, unless you happen to be a successful pie-merchant." She bit her lips and tapped her cheek with the fan. (Did I mention the bloomy cheeks?) "Perhaps I am only one of Cinderella's elder sisters." "That would be very unfortunate. You will recollect that the elder sisters cut off their--" "Good gracious!" "Cut off their toes in the mad effort to capture the prince," I continued. "But I am not trying to capture any prince, not even a fairy prince; and I wouldn't--" "Cut off your toes?" I suggested. "Prolong this questionable conversation, only--" "You can not stop it till you have the shoe," I said. "Only," she went on determinedly, "I am so comfortable here that I do not care to return to the ball-room just at present." "I never expected such a full compliment;" and I made her my most engaging bow. "I am afraid you will have to cut off _your_ toes to get into _that_ shoe,"--maliciously. "I could expect no less than that from you. You keep coming closer to my ideal every moment." She shrugged disdainfully and assumed a bored expression that did not deceive me in the least.