"
"Do you play? Would you play? Anything, so long as we can dance to it!"
From all sides her gift for playing the piano was insisted upon, and
she had to consent. As very soon she had played the only pieces of dance
music she could remember, she went on to play an air from a sonata by
Mozart.
"But that's not a dance," said some one pausing by the piano.
"It is," she replied, emphatically nodding her head. "Invent the steps."
Sure of her melody she marked the rhythm boldly so as to simplify the
way. Helen caught the idea; seized Miss Allan by the arm, and whirled
round the room, now curtseying, now spinning round, now tripping this
way and that like a child skipping through a meadow.
"This is the dance for people who don't know how to dance!" she cried.
The tune changed to a minuet; St. John hopped with incredible swiftness
first on his left leg, then on his right; the tune flowed melodiously;
Hewet, swaying his arms and holding out the tails of his coat, swam down
the room in imitation of the voluptuous dreamy dance of an Indian maiden
dancing before her Rajah. The tune marched; and Miss Allen advanced with
skirts extended and bowed profoundly to the engaged pair. Once
their feet fell in with the rhythm they showed a complete lack of
self-consciousness. From Mozart Rachel passed without stopping to old
English hunting songs, carols, and hymn tunes, for, as she had observed,
any good tune, with a little management, became a tune one could dance
to.
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