The Portland daily press., 1895-04-25
THE DANCING GIRL.

Against the lilac walls OF the room the
white dresses of the girls made blots of
light. The shape of their 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 drvssed in white they seemed to have
no existence. No idea of individuality, of
personality, associated itself with those
faint masses of hueless garments. They
| were like SO many white flowers held up
against piece of purple paper-and to the
ordinary beholder one flower difiereth not
from another in glory.
The old dancing master walked slowly
up and down the room surveying the girls.
He held his kit and bow tenderly under
his left artt1, pressed judiciously to his
side. with his right hand he alternately
stroked and tweaked at his chin, which
was always sign that the teacher was
perplexed. There was a rueful expression
in his light brown eyes, and they looked
from thc long row of white silenoes to the
window whsro the plane tree seemed grim
ly bare and black in the waning winter
light. Cha long lilac room was partially
still, for tho master paced as softly as
cat, and the white girls held their breaths,
The lilac and white in the dying light
stepped the place in melan 5aoIy thatwas
not untender. The only warm color in the
room was the cinnamon brown of the
mans habit.
Up and doWn the long room the master
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 at the river. as if he hoped to
get Some encouragement from it's ceaseless
flow. And each time he turned away
from the river view with the same look of
disappointment upon his smooth, neat,
elderly face. The great clock at the other
end of the room-the clock that had count
ed off SO many lessons-seemed all of a
sudden to Click with unwonted loudness,
as if it, like the girls, were impatient for
the master TO stop his promenade and say
or do something.
Perhaps the appeal of the clock had it's
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."
suspense, moved eagerly forward to the ad-
joining room, where their belongings lay,
the professor reached out his thin ane
white hand and touched one of the girls
upon the shoulder.
Come back he said. 81 want to
speak with you.
The girl locked up in his face with lit
tie start. Then she went into the ante
room with the rest.
When she returned in her everyday
dress, with her hat and tippet on and her
| dancing shoes neatly put away in the reti-
| Guile that hung op her mittened arm, the
master was standing at the window again
drumming nsrvously ON the pane. He
had put his Kit and bow down on the gid
ed table between the two windows, the
gilded table that always seemed to the girl
the emblem of ineffable luxury and re-
pose.
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 expectation and
her dark eyes shining in the twilight.
| The master turned and walked abruptly
| up to her.
"You win never make a dancer, he
said. Al
The girl locked back at him with an ex-
preston on her face aslif he had struck
her. He saw the expression and spoke
| quickly and sharply to hide his pity.
1T is no use for you to come here any
more,'' he said. "You will never make a
| dancer
"But 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.
"1t's no use deceiving yourself, and 1,
look you, cannot deceive myself. Please
do not come here any more
"Oh, but, SIR The girl lifted her
clasped hands toward him. He shook his
head angrily.
II knoft what I know and say what
/ know. fcannot have you here any more.
Could you ever do the pas de zephir?
| Never Can you do the fouette or the bal
lone? Bah! You will never know the diff
ference between coupe and jette. Go
away, please. We have finished. You
| will never make dancer"
There was a firmness in his voice which
showed that his decision was final. The
girl made no further attempt to contest
| the decree. It was like the Judgment of
| the gods-absolute, irrevocable. She
turned silently, and went out of the room
very quietly. But when the door closed
behind her the strained sensibilities of the
master could hear the stealthy sobbing,
which she tried to stihe as she slipped
down stairs and into the gaunt hall. He
heard her close the door, and for one mo-
ment he was tempted to go to the window
and call her back. But he shook his head.
Better sooner than LATER he said to
himself. ''She could never make dan
GER Then he sat down to the harpsichord
and played over gavotte of Lully's until
he Had played the plain, awkward girl out
of his memory.
/ 1t was summer, and very warm. The
master sat at his window in the same long
lilac room. 1t was very pleasant to sit