Part 17 (2/2)

Joy did as she was told, and--marvel of marvels!--found herself following him easily. She was really dancing!

”But why did you call me that?” she demanded, like a child, as she got her breath. To her apprehensive mind the name sounded as if Gail had not only learned her dark secret but had pa.s.sed it on to her dear Cousin Clarence.

”Because you look it,” said he promptly, in a voice that softened from word to word. ”...Harrington is a good dancer, isn't he? Phyllis looks all right, but I fancy she guides hard. Those tall women often do....

Why, anybody with brows and lashes like yours, and hair that color, combined with that angelic please-guide-me-through-a-hard-world expression simply shrieks aloud for a name like that. A sorcerette is a cross between a seraph and a little witch. There's no telling what she might do to you!”

”Oh!” cooed Joy.

It sounded like a very happy ”Oh,” and Clarence, experienced love-pirate though he was, hadn't a way in the world of knowing that Joy's pleasure came of being still undiscovered, not of his winning ways.

She danced on with him to the very last note of the record, enraptured to find that she really could dance, and came back to the end of the room where Mrs. Hewitt still sat; her eyes starry with delight.

”Oh, I can dance when I just go where the man takes me!” she cried.

”I never knew I could!”

”You dance very well,” said John's quiet voice from behind his mother's chair. ”Will you dance with me now?”

Joy, regarding him, saw that he was vexed. Most people would not have noticed it, but very few of his moods escaped Joy. He was a little graver than usual, and his voice was quieter.

”If I can,” she answered. ”I thought you were dancing this with Miss Maddox.”

”I didn't think it would show proper courtesy to my fiancee to dance first with some one else,” John answered.

Clarence had set the music going again, and was swinging round the room with Gail. As it began, John, with no more words, drew Joy out on the floor with him.

She looked up in surprise at his words.

”Why--why, I didn't know I was that much of a fiancee to you. I thought probably you'd rather be with Gail. And--and I didn't know I was going to dance anyway. I didn't know I could!”

He looked down at her again, apparently to see whether she was in earnest, holding her off for a moment as they danced.

She hoped he would deny that he preferred being with Gail, but he did not.

”We are going through our month of relations.h.i.+p _right_,” he told her definitely, smiling, but looking down at her with the steady, steel-colored light in his gray eyes that she knew meant ”no appeal.” ”Gail does not enter into it at all. But I admit that Rutherford's quickness put me in the wrong.”

”If only,” thought Joy, acutely conscious of his firm hold, ”instead of laying down the law that way, he would let go and admit that he was angry!” For he certainly was, and it wasn't at all her fault, unless going where Clarence took her was a crime. John _hadn't_ thought of dancing first. Was he the kind of person who always thought he was right even when he knew he wasn't? If so, maybe a month _was_ long enough.... But the thought of the end of the month hurt, no matter how unreasonable she tried to think John, and she threw down her arms--the only way, if she had known, to make John throw down his.

”Are you angry at me?” she half whispered. ”I--please don't be angry. n.o.body ever was, and I don't want to be silly, but I don't believe I could stand it.”

He swept her rhythmically on, but she could feel his arm relax and hold her more warmly, and his wonderful gray eyes softened again as they looked into hers.

”Poor little thing! I keep forgetting that you're just a child.

Sometimes you aren't, you know.”

”No, sometimes I'm not,” Joy echoed. Then she laughed up at him impishly. ”You say this thing is going to be done right?” she mocked. ”Very well, then, when Mr. Rutherford is nice to me you ought to be nicer. When he sits down close to me and tells me I'm a sorcerette--”

”A what?” demanded John swiftly. ”See here, Joy, I'm practically in charge of you, and you're very young, you know, and can't be expected to know much about men. Rutherford is attractive and all that, but he's a man I wouldn't trust the other side of a biscuit.

Any man can tell you that. Allan--”

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