The
conversation went no further. At last Caillaud said:
"Come, Pauline, a tune; we have not had one for a long time."
Pauline smiled, and went into her little room. Meanwhile her father
removed chairs and table, piling them one on another so as to leave a
clear space. He and Zachariah crouched into the recess by the
fireplace. Pauline entered in the self same short black dress
trimmed with red, with the red artificial flower, wearing the same
red stockings and dancing-slippers, but without the shawl. The
performance this time was not quite what it was when Zachariah had
seen it in London. Between herself and the corner where Zachariah
and her father were seated she now had an imaginary partner, before
whom she advanced, receded, bowed, displayed herself in the most
exquisitely graceful attitudes, never once overstepping the mark, and
yet showing every limb and line to the utmost advantage. Zachariah,
as before, followed every movement with eager--shall we say with
hungry eyes? He was so unused to exhibitions of this kind that their
grace was not, as it should have been, their only charm; for, as we
before observed, in his chapel circle even ordinary dancing was a
thing prohibited.
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