The Van Buren press., 1895-06-08
THE DANCING MASTER.


faces, the color Of their hair seemed to
become indistinct to vanishing point
in the pale gloom Of the place. Beyond
the fact that they were all dressed IN
white they seemed to have no exist
ence; no idea Of individuality, of per-
sonality, associated itself with those
faint masses of hueless garments.
They were like SO many white flowers
held up against a piece OF purple paper
and to the ordinary bebolder one
flower differeth not from another IN
glory.
The old dancing master walked slow
~ up and down the room surveying
the girls. He held his kit and bow ten
derly under his left arm, pressed
judiciously to his side. With his right
hand he alternately stroked and
tweaked at his chin, which was always
a sign that the teacher was perplexed.
Up and down the long room the mas.
ter paced, visibly perturbed. Each
time that he came to one OF the two
long windows that lit the room he
paused and looked out through the
naked branches Of the plane tree ut
the river, as II he hoped to get some
encouragement from its ceaseless flow.
And each time he turned away from
the river view with tho same look of
disappointment upon his smooth, neat,
elderly face. The great clock at the
other end OF the room-the clock that
had counted off so many lessons
seemed all Of sudden to tick with un-
wonted loudness, as If 1t, like the girls,
were impatient for the master to stop
his promenade and say or do some
thing.
Perhaps the appeal Of the clock had
its effect. Perhaps in the stiffness the
master could catch family the sound
of all those girlish hearts fluttering
timidly together. He stopped for an
instant and looked at the long line of
expectant faces.
young ladies', you can CO."
Then as the girls, relieved from their
suspense, moved eagerly forward to
the adjoining room, where their be-
longings lay, the professor reached
out his thin, fine white hand and
touched one of the girls upon the
shoulder.
"Come back" he said, ~ want to
speak with you"
The girl looked mp in his face with
little start. Then she went into the
anteroom with the rest.
When she returned in her everyday
dress, with her hat and tippet on and
her dancing shoes neatly pnt away in
the reticule that hung on her mittened
arm, the master was standing at the
window again. drumming nervously on
the pane He had put his kit and bow
down on the gilded table between the
two windows, the gilded table that al
ways seemed to the girl the emblem of
ineffable luxury and repose.
The master heard her come in, but
for a moment he did not turn, and the
girl stood watching him, her pale,
plainish face paler than ever with ex-
pectation, and her dark eyes shining
in the twilight The master turned
and walked abruptly up to her.
"You will never make dancer" he
said.
The girl looked back at him with an
expression on her face as if he had
struck her. He saw the expression
and spoke quickly and sharply to hide
his pity.
"It is no use for you to come here
any more" he said. "You will never
make dancer"
"But I must" the girl answered,
with tears in her eyes, while her right
hand pulled nervously at the fingers OF
her left.
"Never, never, never!' he insisted.
ats no use deceiving yourself, and l.
look you, I cannot deceive nyself
Please do not come here any more"
"Oh, but sir!" the girl lifted her
clasped hands toward him. He shook
his head angrily.
"I know what / know, and l say
what know. cannot have you here
any more. Could you ever do the Pas
de Zephirp Never. Can you do the
'Fouette or the 'Ballone" Bah! You
will never know the difference between
a coup and 'jette.' Goaway, please
We have finished. You will never
make dancer.
There was frmness in his voice
which showed that his decision was
final. The girl made no further at
tempt to contest the decree. 1t was
like the Judgment Of the gods; abso'
lute. irrevocable. She turned silently,
and went out Of the room very quietly
Rut when the door closed behind her
the strained sensibilities OF the master
could hear the stealthy sobbing, which
she tried to stifle as she slipped down
stairs and into the gaunt hall. lie
hoard her close the door, and for one
moment he was tempted to go TO the
window and call her back. But ne
shook his head. Better sooner than
Inter" he said to himself. "she could
never make a dancer" Then he sal
down to the harpsichord and played
over a gavotte OF Lully's until he had
nlaved the plain, awkward girl out o'
his memory. r,.
II was summer, and very warm. Ihe
master sat at his window In the same
long lilac-room. 1t was very pleasan.
70 Sit there and watch the river ano
the wherries and barges, and to rehec'
in It's prosperous, peaceful evening up
nm the events of painstaking, sue
cessful life. The master did not smok. .
it was a custom he abominated-pu
there was a flask of white wine near te
his hand, and glass half-full OF tht
noIlow mice, from which ever ane
.non he took a self-satisfed sip. Ht
seldom cave lessons now, for his daugh
ter had married, and his son-in-laN -, "
carried on the teaching admirapiy