It was some consolation to know that she could dance as well, or better, than those slim and pampered beauties outside her window.

Some consolation, even though she never expected to have a chance of proving it.
Delamater was especially agreeable to-day, more than usually nattering.
Not for some time did his scholar become conscious of the subtle change in his demeanor, and even then its significance awoke only a shadowy contentment.

Allie hated herself too thoroughly to-day to believe that anybody could really approve of her.

As for him, he entirely misconstrued the meaning of her silent acceptance of his flattery.
They had become well acquainted by now and were on a basis of easy familiarity, nevertheless it came as a shock to Allie to be called by her first name-such a shock that she missed a step and trod on Delamater's foot.

They came to a pause.
The dancing master was tall and slim, his face was on a level with hers, and now he smiled into it, saying, "My mistake, my dear." "I--reckon it was." The girl's eyes were glowing queerly, and the man was amused at her evident agitation.