Being of a literary turn of mind and also economical, Henry's first step towards his new ambition was to buy a fifty-cent book entitled _The ABC of Modern Dancing_, by 'Tango'. It would, he felt--not without reason--be simpler and less expensive if he should learn the steps by the aid of this treatise than by the more customary method of taking lessons. But quite early in the proceedings he was faced by complications. In the first place, it was his intention to keep what he was doing a secret from Minnie, in order to be able to give her a pleasant surprise on her birthday, which would be coming round in a few weeks. In the second place, _The ABC of Modern Dancing_ proved on investigation far more complex than its title suggested. These two facts were the ruin of the literary method, for, while it was possible to study the text and the plates at the bank, the home was the only place in which he could attempt to put the instructions into practice. You cannot move the right foot along dotted line A B and bring the left foot round curve C D in a paying-cashier's cage in a bank, nor, if you are at all sensitive to public opinion, on the pavement going home. And while he was trying to do it in the parlour of the flat one night when he imagined that Minnie was in the kitchen cooking supper, she came in unexpectedly to ask how he wanted the steak cooked. He explained that he had had a sudden touch of cramp, but the incident shook his nerve. After this he decided that he must have lessons. Complications did not cease with this resolve. Indeed, they became more acute. It was not that there was any difficulty about finding an instructor. The papers were full of their advertisements. He selected a Mme Gavarni because she lived in a convenient spot. Her house was in a side street, with a station within easy reach. The real problem was when to find time for the lessons. His life was run on such a regular schedule that he could hardly alter so important a moment in it as the hour of his arrival home without exciting comment. Only deceit could provide a solution. 'Min, dear,' he said at breakfast. 'Yes, Henry?' Henry turned mauve. He had never lied to her before. 'I'm not getting enough exercise.' 'Why you look so well.' 'I get a kind of heavy feeling sometimes. I think I'll put on another mile or so to my walk on my way home. So--so I'll be back a little later in future.' 'Very well, dear.' It made him feel like a particularly low type of criminal, but, by abandoning his walk, he was now in a position to devote an hour a day to the lessons; and Mme Gavarni had said that that would be ample. 'Sure, Bill,' she had said. She was a breezy old lady with a military moustache and an unconventional manner with her clientele. 'You come to me an hour a day, and, if you haven't two left feet, we'll make you the pet of society in a month.' 'Is that so?' 'It sure is. I never had a failure yet with a pupe, except one. And that wasn't my fault.'