"
The Scotchman laughed. "He meant ye no harm. It's a trick they have in
the States of changing partners. Watch the game; ye'll see."
"And I can take any man's partner away by simply laying my hand on his
shoulder?"
This changed the complexion of things considerably. The Honorable
Percival spent the remainder of the evening laying his hand upon the
shoulder of whosoever claimed Bobby for a dance.
It was remarkable with what facility he acquired the new steps. He knew
that he had a good figure and that he carried it with distinction. The
admiring glances that followed his entrance into any public assembly
made him pleasantly aware of the fact. To-night, however, if any of his
thoughts turned upon himself, they were but stragglers from the main
army that marched in solid file under Bobby's banner.
During the intervals when he could not dance with her he retired to
the loggia, and thought about her. She was not only the most beautiful
creature he had ever seen, but the most adorably responsive. He likened
her poetically to an AEolian harp and himself to the wind.
No one, not even his fond mother, had accepted him so implicitly at
his own valuation as Bobby. Other women frequently insisted upon their
own interpretations. He looked upon this as a form of disloyalty.
Lady Hortense had once decried his taste for Tennyson; that, and her
persistent use of a perfume which he disliked had been symbolic to him
of a difference in temperament. Bobby had no predilections for perfumes
or poets.
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