‘Weel, they gaed to the ball, but it was a waesome ball to Willie: he was obliged to sit lookin’ on, while she was skimmin’ through the dance wi’ ither lads. This he bore wi’ some patience, but when she rose up to dance some new-fashioned dance, (a waltz, I think she ca’d it,) and he saw a strange lad’s arms twined aboot her in a manner that he would have thocht it sacrilege to attempt, he couldna bear longer—his head grew confused, and the measure o’ his vexation was filled up by a lad coming owre an’ asking Mary to stand up to dance wi’ him; poor Mary was obliged to tell the truth. “Canna dance!” said the lad in surprise. Willie didna wait for ony mair, but takin’ Mary’s han’, “Come awa,” said he, “we canna stay here to be affronted.” I was surprised to see them come hame sae soon, and asked him the reason: he made some trifling excuse; but when he gaed to his bed, Mary told me the hale story. ‘Next day he was dowie an’ thochtfu’, his pride was hurt, an’ he was jealous o’ Jessie, but he didna speak. When he cam hame at night she was in, an’ before he had time to speak, she cried out, “O Willie, what gart ye gang awa an’ leave me; I waited lookin’ for you through the room when I wanted to gang hame, but I couldna find ye. Ye wad be vext seein’ a’ the rest dancin’, an’ you no able: what a pity you canna dance, Willie; if ye could, I’m sure naebody should be my partner but yoursel’, for I couldna see onybody there that I liked sae weel.” This was plenty, Willie’s een brightened, an’ he took her hand—“Will you be sure to keep your promise, Jessie, if I learn before the next ball?” “As sure as I have life,” said she. He looked at me. I kent what he meant. O ay, Willie, you have my consent to gang to the school, an’ tak Mary wi’ ye—it’s no against the dancin’ itsel’ that I have sae much objection, as what it leads to. My mind tell’d me I was doin’ wrang, but I couldna help bein’ pleased to think it was makin’ him sae happy. Weel, to the dancin’-school they gaed, an’ books, an’ drawin’ an’ every thing was laid aside. He was clever at ony thing, but his mind was so much set on this, that he couldna but learn fast, and by the next ball he was able to dance wi’ Jessie himsel’. But, poor fellow, a’ his endeavours seemed vain, for Jessie was asked that night to dance wi’ a lad who was the brag o’ the country side. He was a fine-lookin’ chiel, I believe, but puffed up wi’ vanity. The twa gaed through some new-fangled dance by themsel’s—every body roosed them to the skies, and they turned the prouder the mair they heard themsel’s praised. Instead o’ comin’ owre beside Willie when it was finished, Jessie sat down beside her new partner. Willie, you may be sure, was unhappy enough before, but his heart was like to burst within him when he saw her hearkening wi’ delight to some nonsense the chiel was sayin’ to her. He could thole nae langer, and he gaed owre to her and asked if she would stand up