The gifted products of fashionable Brighton schools, who could in their own way make exhibitions of themselves also, wondered who on earth had taught Miss Fitzmannering; and the servants at the door felt ashamed of themselves without knowing why.
Miss Fitzmannering had practised that skirt-dance--those few steps--religiously for the last month.

She had been taught those same contortions by a young lady in THE profession, whom even Billy Fitzmannering raised his eyebrows at.

And every one knows that Billy is not particular.

The performance was not graceful, and the gentlemen present, who knew more about dancing--skirt or otherwise--than they cared to admit, pursed up the corners of their mouths and looked straight in front of them--afraid to meet the eye of some person or persons undefined.
But the best face there was that of Sir John Meredith.

He was not bored, as were many of his juniors--at least, he did not look it.