She had a long, rollicking waltz with Mr. Maclean. They rollicked, because children were on the floor and steering seemed out of fashion. Yet he carried her round in a gentle way, because Elma, with her desire to be the best of dancers, invariably got knocked out with a robust partner. He carried her round in the most gentle way until the music stopped with the bang, bang of an energetic amateur. Elma found the floor suddenly hit her on the cheek in what seemed to her a most impossible manner. "Now what could make it do that?" she asked Mr. Maclean. He was bending over her with rather a white face. Cuthbert came up. "Why didn’t you tell Maclean that you were giddy?" he said. "He would have held you up." "But I wasn’t giddy," said Elma. "I’m not giddy now." She was standing, but the floor again seemed at a slant. "Steady," said Cuthbert. "You’re as giddy as the giddiest. Don’t pretend. Take her off to get cool, Maclean." "Cool!" Elma’s fingers seemed icy. But there was a comforting, light-headed glow in her cheeks which reassured her. Every one said how well she was looking, and that kept her from wondering whether she was really going to be ill. George Maclean tried to get her to drink tea, but for the first time in her life she found herself possessed of a passion for lemonade. "You will really think that I am one of the children," she said, "because I am simply devoured with a longing for iced lemonade." "Well, you shall have iced lemonade, and as much as you want," said George Maclean. "How I could let you fall, I can’t think." There was a most ludicrous look of concern on his face. "I shall grab all my prospective partners for this evening at least," said Elma. "You can’t think how treacherous that floor is." She did not dance nearly so much as she wanted to. George Maclean and Lance and Cuthbert, these three, at least, made her sit out when she wanted to be "skipping." Isobel looked her up on hearing that she had fallen. Cuthbert said, "She doesn’t look well, you know." "Why, Elma--Elma is never ill," said Isobel. "Look at her colour too!" Towards the end of the evening, they began to forget about it, and Elma danced almost as usual. Three times she saw the floor rock, but held on. What her partners thought of her when she clung to a strong arm, she did not stop to think. It was "talking to Miss Annie in her stuffy room" that had started it, she remembered. She was in an exalted frame of mind about other things. The world was turning golden. Cuthbert was coming home, Mabel and Jean would soon be with them, Adelaide Maud was already on the spot. And Isobel would be gone in the summer.