I should say it was an advantage and something to be proud of."
"Oh, it is not that," replied Oscard; "it is a feeling of
unkemptness and want of smartness among these men who look so clean
and correct. Shall we dance?"
He looked down at her, with an admiration which almost amounted to
awe, as if afraid of entering the throng with such a dainty and
wonderful charge upon his powers of steering. Millicent Chyne saw
the glance and liked it. It was different from the others, quite
devoid of criticism, rather simple and full of honest admiration.
She was so beautiful that she could hardly be expected to be unaware
of the fact. She had merely to make comparisons, to look in the
mirror and see that her hair was fairer and softer, that her
complexion was more delicately perfect, that her slight, rounded
figure was more graceful than any around her. Added to this, she
knew that she had more to say than other girls--a larger stock of
those little frivolous, advice-seeking, aid-demanding nothings than
her compeers seemed to possess.
She knew that in saying them she could look brighter and prettier
and more intelligent than her competitors.
"Yes," she said, "let us dance by all means."
Here also she knew her own proficiency, and in a few seconds she
found that her partner was worthy of her skill.
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