"Oh, Mr. Sercombe! how can you say so--with such dancers as the young ladies of your party!" returned Annie. "They dance well," he returned, "but not so well as you." "It all depends on the dance--whether you are used to it or not." "No, by Jove! If you had a lesson or two such as they have been having all their lives, you would dance out of their sight in the twinkling of an eye. If I had you for a partner every night for a month, you would dance better than any woman I have ever seen--off the stage--any lady, that is." The grosser the flattery, the surer with a country girl, he thought. But there was that in his tone, besides the freedom of sounding her praises in her own ears, which was unpleasing to Annie's ladyhood, and she held her peace. "Come out and have a turn," he said thereupon. "It is lovely star-light. Have you had a walk to-day?" "No, I have not," answered Annie, casting how to get rid of him. "You wrong your beauty by keeping to the house." "My beauty," said Annie, flushing, "may look after itself; I have nothing to do with it--neither, excuse me, sir, have you." "Why, who has a right to be offended with the truth! A man can't help seeing your face is as sweet as your voice, and your figure, as revealed by your dancing, a match for the two!" "I will call my mother," said Annie, and left the shop. Sercombe did not believe she would, and waited. He took her departure for a mere coquetry. But when a rather grim, handsome old woman appeared, asking him--it took the most of her English--"What would you be wanting, sir?" as if he had just come into the shop, he found himself awkwardly situated. He answered, with more than his usual politeness, that, having had the pleasure of dancing with her daughter at the chief's hall, he had taken the liberty of looking in to inquire after her health; whereupon, perplexed, the old woman in her turn called Annie, who came at once, but kept close to her mother. Sercombe began to tell them about a tour he had made in Canada, for he had heard they had friends there; but the mother did not understand him, and Annie more and more disliked him. He soon saw that at least he had better say nothing more about a walk, and took himself off, not a little piqued at repulse from a peasant-girl in the most miserable shop he had ever entered.