“Certainly,” Herbert replied. “Otherwise you bob around like a cork in hot water and make yourself ridiculous, besides jerking your partner awfully. Look at Jim Carter, will you, holding Louie’s arm up like a pump-handle and hopping like a toad. Louie is splendid, give her half a chance, but what can she do with such a clown? Look at his knees bent nearly double!” Herbert was pretty severe in his criticisms on Jim Carter’s waltzing, while Fred laughed and said, “I am afraid I shall bob like a cork and hop like a toad with my knees bent, for I have no idea of time.” Herbert, who knew his cousin’s habits pretty well, rejoined in some surprise: “Are you going to dance? I thought you detested it.” “Of course I am going to, and I have already engaged Miss Grey for the lancers and the two-step. I am waiting for her now,” was Fred’s answer; and, as just then Louie was led to a seat near him, he pushed past Herbert to her side and said, “Shall we try it next time, and what is it? Oh, I see—a two-step. I am not very good at that, and shall depend on you to keep me going.” Louie looked at him a moment with a troubled expression on her face, and when he continued “You remember you promised me,” she said. “Yes, I know; but, Mr. Lansing, I have been thinking about it, and it seems to me I made you ask me by my foolish remark that I hoped somebody would. You couldn’t very well help it after that, you know, and I release you from all obligations to me. I have danced once, and am promised to Will Travers and one or two more, and shall do very well if I stand the rest of the evening. There are so many city girls here for you.” “Bother the city girls,” Fred thought; but, he said, “I have no intention to be released, although you may wish I had before we get through with it, for I have no more idea of time than a cow, as Herb said of your late partner.” “That’s so; he didn’t have much time in him, and he jerked me around terribly. I hope he won’t ask me again. He will, though; he always does, when we are where they dance. I guess I can manage you if you really like to try,” Louie answered with a laugh. “It is very simple when you once get into it.” With a long breath, and a hope that he should not fall down, or step on some one’s dress, Fred was soon struggling with the two-step, of which he knew very little; but Louie kept him going, and infused so much of her own enjoyment of the dance into him that he began to like it himself, provided always that Louie could be his partner. Emboldened by his success, he tried a spirited waltz with her, in which she neither made of him a pillow nor a bolster; and he did not quite believe he bobbed like a cork, although he saw Herbert’s eyes fixed disapprovingly upon him whenever he passed near him, and felt sure he was not acquitting himself very creditably. Louie told him he did splendidly, and promised one or two more dances beside the lancers.