An Old-fashioned Girl - Louisa M. Alcott (free ebook reader for iphone .txt) 📗

been asked for the express purpose of keeping Maud out of her sister's way. Tom had likewise been propitiated, by being allowed to bring his three bosom friends, who went by the school-boy names of Rumple, Sherry, and Spider.

"They will do to make up sets, as gentlemen are scarce; and the party is for Polly, so I must have some young folks on her account," said Fanny, when sending out her invitations.

Of course, the boys came early, and stood about in corners, looking as if they had more arms and legs than they knew what to do with. Tom did his best to be a good host; but ceremony oppressed his spirits, and he was forced to struggle manfully with the wild desire to propose a game of leap-frog, for the long drawing-rooms, cleared for dancing, tempted him sorely.

Polly sat where she was told, and suffered bashful agonies as Fan introduced very fine young ladies and very stiff young gentlemen, who all said about the same civil things, and then appeared to forget all about her. When the first dance was called, Fanny cornered Tom, who had been dodging her, for he knew what she wanted, and said, in an earnest whisper: "Now, Tom, you must dance this with Polly. You are the young gentleman of the house, and it 's only proper that you should ask your company first."

"Polly don't care for manners. I hate dancing; don't know how. Let go my jacket, and don't bother, or I 'll cut away altogether," growled Tom, daunted by the awful prospect of opening the ball with Polly.

"I 'll never forgive you if you do. Come, be clever, and help me, there 's a dear. You know we both were dreadfully rude to Polly, and agreed that we 'd be as kind and civil to her as ever we could. I shall keep my word, and see that she is n't slighted at my party, for I want her to love me, and go home feeling all right."

This artful speech made an impression on the rebellious Thomas, who glanced at Polly's happy face, remembered his promise, and, with a groan, resolved to do his duty.

"Well, I 'll take her; but I shall come to grief, for I don't know anything about your old dances."

"Yes, you do. I 've taught you the steps a dozen times. I 'm going to begin with a redowa, because the girls like it, and it 's better fun than square dances. Now, put on your gloves, and go and ask Polly like a gentleman."

"Oh, thunder!" muttered Tom. And having split the detested gloves in dragging them on, he nerved himself for the effort, walked up to Polly, made a stiff bow, stuck out his elbow, and said, solemnly, "May I have the pleasure, Miss Milton?"

He did it as much like the big fellows as he could, and expected that Polly would be impressed. But she was n't a bit; for after a surprised look she laughed in his face, and took him by the hand, saying, heartily, "Of course you may; but don't be a goose, Tommy."

"Well, Fan told me to be elegant, so I tried to," whispered Tom, adding, as he clutched his partner with a somewhat desperate air, "Hold on tight, and we 'll get through somehow."

The music struck up, and away they went; Tom hopping one way and Polly the other, in a most ungraceful manner.

"Keep time to the music," gasped Polly.

"Can't; never could," returned Tom.

"Keep step with me, then, and don't tread on my toes," pleaded Polly.

"Never mind; keep bobbing, and we 'll come right by and by," muttered Tom, giving his unfortunate partner a sudden whisk, which nearly landed both on the floor.

But they did not "get right by and by"; for Tom, In his frantic efforts to do his duty, nearly annihilated poor Polly. He tramped, he bobbed, he skated, he twirled her to the right, dragged her to the left, backed her up against people and furniture, trod on her feet, rumpled her dress, and made a spectacle of himself generally. Polly was much disturbed; but as everyone else was flying about also, she bore it as long as she could, knowing that Tom had made a martyr of himself, and feeling grateful to him for the sacrifice.

"Oh, do stop now; this is dreadful!" cried Polly, breathlessly, after a few wild turns.

"Is n't it?" said Tom, wiping his red face with such an air of intense relief, that Polly had not the heart to scold him, but said, "Thank you," and dropped into a chair exhausted.

"I know I 've made a guy of myself; but Fan insisted on it, for fear you 'd be offended if I did n't go the first dance with you," said Tom, remorsefully, watching Polly as she settled the bow of her crushed sash, which Tom had used as a sort of handle by which to turn and twist her; "I can do the Lancers tip-top; but you won't ever want to dance with me any more," he added, as he began to fan her so violently, that her hair flew about as if in a gale of wind.

"Yes, I will. I 'd like to; and you shall put your name down here on the sticks of my fan. That 's the way, Trix says, when you don't have a ball-book."

Looking much gratified, Tom produced the stump of a lead-pencil, and wrote his name with a flourish, saying, as he gave it back, "Now I 'm going to get Sherry, or some of the fellows that do the redowa well, so you can have a real good go before the music stops."

Off went Tom; but before he could catch any eligible partner, Polly was provided with the best dancer in the room. Mr. Sydney had seen and heard the whole thing; and though he had laughed quietly, he liked honest Tom and good-natured Polly all the better for their simplicity. Polly's foot was keeping time to the lively music, and her eyes were fixed wistfully on the smoothly-gliding couples before her, when Mr. Sydney came to her, saying, in the pleasant yet respectful way she liked so much, "Miss Polly, can you give me a turn?"

"Oh, yes; I 'm dying for another." And Polly jumped up, with both hands out, and such a grateful face, that Mr. Sydney resolved she should have as many turns as she liked.

This time all went well; and Tom, returning from an unsuccessful search, was amazed to behold Polly circling gracefully about the room, guided by a most accomplished partner.

"Ah, that 's something like," he thought, as he watched the bronze boots retreating and advancing in perfect time to the music. "Don't see how Sydney does the steering so well; but it must be fun; and, by Jupiter! I 'll learn it!" added Shaw, Jr., with an emphatic gesture which burst the last button off his gloves.

Polly enjoyed herself till the music stopped; and before she had time to thank Mr. Sydney as warmly as she wished, Tom came up to say, with his most lordly air, "You dance splendidly, Polly. Now, you just show me any one you like the looks of, and I 'll get him for you, no matter who he is."

"I don't want any of the gentlemen; they are so stiff, and don't care to dance with me; but I like those boys over there, and I 'll dance with any of them if they are willing," said Polly, after a survey.

"I 'll trot out the whole lot." And Tom gladly brought up his friends, who all admired Polly immensely, and were proud to be chosen instead of the "big fellows."

There was no sitting still for Polly after that, for the lads kept her going at a great pace; and she was so happy, she never saw or suspected how many little manoeuvres, heart-burnings, displays of vanity, affectation, and nonsense were going on all round her. She loved dancing, and entered into the gayety of the scene with a heartiness that was pleasant to see. Her eyes shone, her face glowed, her lips smiled, and the brown curls waved in the air, as she danced, with a heart as light as her feet.

"Are you enjoying yourself, Polly?" asked Mr. Shaw, who looked in, now and then, to report to grandma that all was going well.

"Oh, such a splendid time!" cried Polly, with an enthusiastic little gesture, as she chassed into the corner where he stood.

"She is a regular belle among the boys," said Fanny, as she promenaded by.

"They are so kind in asking me and I 'm not afraid of them," explained Polly, prancing, simply because she could n't keep still.

"So you are afraid of the young gentlemen, hey?" and Mr. Shaw held her by one curl.

"All but Mr. Sydney. He don't put on airs and talk nonsense; and, oh! he does 'dance like an angel,' as Trix says."

"Papa, I wish you 'd come and waltz with me. Fan told me not to go near her, 'cause my wed dwess makes her pink one look ugly; and Tom won't; and I want to dwedfully."

"I 've forgotten how, Maudie. Ask Polly; she 'll spin you round like a teetotum." "Mr. Sydney's name is down for that," answered Polly, looking at her fan with a pretty little air of importance. "But I guess he would n't mind my taking poor Maud instead. She has n't danced hardly any, and I 've had more than my share. Would it be very improper to change my mind?" And Polly looked up at her tall partner with eye which plainly showed that the change was a sacrifice.

"Not a bit. Give the little dear a good waltz, and we will look on," answered Mr. Sydney, with a nod and smile.

"That is a refreshing little piece of nature," said Mr. Shaw, as Polly and Maud whirled away.

"She will make a charming little woman, if she is n't spoilt."

"No danger of that. She has got a sensible mother."

"I thought so." And Sydney sighed, for he had lately lost his own good mother.

When supper was announced, Polly happened to be talking, or trying to talk, to one of the "poky" gentlemen whom Fan had introduced. He took Miss Milton down, of course, put her in a corner, and having served her to a dab of ice and one macaroon, he devoted himself to his own supper with such interest, that Polly would have fared badly, if Tom had not come and rescued her.

"I 've been looking everywhere for you. Come with me, and don't sit starving here," said Tom, with a scornful look from her empty plate to that of her recreant escort, which was piled with good things.

Following her guide, Polly was taken to the big china closet, opening from the dining-room to the kitchen, and here she found a jovial little party feasting at ease. Maud and her bosom friend, "Gwace," were seated on tin cake-boxes; Sherry and Spider adorned the refrigerator; while Tom and Rumple foraged for the party.

"Here 's fun," said Polly, as she was received with a clash of spoons and a waving of napkins.

"You just perch on that cracker-keg, and I 'll see that you get enough," said Tom, putting a dumbwaiter before her, and issuing his orders with a fine air of authority.

"We are a band