" "Law! Miss," observed the maid, "there's nothing mischievous in the person's appearance, I'm sure. Rain started to pummel the roof of the pavilion, which coalesced into sheets and rumbled to the cement below. She saw herself begin a slow, sinuous dance: and stop suddenly in the middle of a figure, conscious that the dance was not impromptu, her own, but native—the same dance she had quitted but a few minutes gone. She did not learn the kind of looks she had been bestowing upon him at a convent. But, after all, it will be different. He dashed against the screen door before she could catch him and made the veranda. Hurrying down the Haymarket, he was arrested by a crowd who were collected round a street-singer. What gave the puzzling twist to an ordinary situation was her manner: she was guileless. ” She said, embarrassed.
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