The sun., 1901-04-20

nj AZURE had never intended that
IN Lamson should dance. BY every
law of grace and anatomy, he should
have withheld himself from the fes-
tive waltz and two step; yet Lamson
had wild desire to learn to dance.
Worst Of all, this longing came upon
him after he was 25 years old, and
after 25 is rarer than a white black
bird.
The reason for Lamson's sudden
interest in dancing was because he
believed that as a dancer he would
be on the air line to Mary Ellen's
heart. Mary Ellen Anstruther could
dance as lightly as thistle down in
south breeze, and young Perkins, de-
testable youth, who wore plaid vests
and giggled behind fawn mustache,
was her favorite partner. The first
time Lamson ever saw Mary Ellen
she was dancing, and he was smitten
with a great love for her, and cor
responding great hate for her part
ner, Perkins. Lamson himself was
lounging in doorway, disconsolate
and alone. He was not dancing
man, and he had come to the party
nnder protest. But Mrs. Ray had
one day descended on him in his Of
fee and said that if he did not come
she would never forgive him to the
last day of her life. So he had gone,
and was spending listless evening,
trying to keep out of the way of the
dancers.
After he saw Mary Ellen he began
to take an interest in things. He
sltated around the edge of the ball
room until he found Mrs. Ray. He
asked her to introduce him to the
'pretty girl who was dancing with
the pigeon-toed, blond young man."
Perkins was not pigeon-toed-tha
was gratuitous insult invented by
Lamson on the spur of the moment.
Lamson was introduced to Mary
Ellen. On closer view he decided that
she was even prettier than he had
| thought at first. No one could know
how long and curled her eyelashes
were who did not see her close, nor
how fine and satinlike was her skin,
nor could he fully appreciate the
quaint turn of her under lip as it
merged into her chin.
Lamson talked to her for five short
minutes, then gawky youth bore
her away for waltz. Lamson spent
the remainder of the evening follow
ing Mary Ellen about so he could
snatch a few moments with her be-
| tween dances. just when he began
to enjoy himself she was always
whirled away from him. He sug-
She laughed and showed him her card,
which was scrawled all over with
hieroglyphics. 81 wish you weren't
so POPULAR" Lamson said; "then you
would have time to talk to me-"
Mary Ellen held up her hands in
horror. "Oh, wall flower! That
would be horrid. could never
hold up my head again if
my card wasn't filled up. But,
Mr.. Lamson," she added, "if
you really want to talk to me, you
might come over to our house some
day and call. I don't dance then, and
I'm sure you'd soon get tired of hear
ing me talk"
Lamson learned her address just
as she was joining the cotillion. He
called on her the very next evening
but one. Lamson found that he did
not tire of hearing Mary Ellen talk.
Afterwards he seldom remembered
Just what she had talked of, but he
was apt to watch the dimple in her
right cheek as it came and went, and
so lost much of the drift of her con-
versation. Iamson would have been
quite content to spend every evening
in the parlor of Mary Ellen's father,
but she had many engagements.
Lamson could go to theaters and
concerts and card parties, but when
it came to dancing he had to be
counted out. Mary Ellen went to so
many dancing parties that Lamson
came to the conclusion that he must
either learn to dance or lose every
: hope of marrying her. He resolved
to learn to dance, and then surprise
her with his proficiency. This would
. put her in melting mood. He would
ask her to marry him, and then they
would be happy for ever after.
So Lamson began to take private
lessons from Miss Arabella De We're,
who guaranteed to teach the waltz
and two step ito any person not a
cripple or deficient in mental powers
, for five dollars"
!. Miss De We're gave her dancing les
! sons in large, bare room over
: steamship office. She was faded
patient little woman, with slender
twinkling feet that seemed man,