There she was, sitting quietly against the wall in a remote corner, her plain face all smiles, her little feet dancing under the white muslin frock which she had fashioned for herself with so much pain under Marcella's directions.
Miss Raeburn was called away to find an arm-chair for some dowager of importance; Marcella took advantage of the break and of the end of a dance to hurry down the room to Mary.

Aldous, who was talking to old Sir Charles Leven, Frank's father, a few steps off, nodded and smiled to her as he saw her move.
"Have you been dancing, Mary ?" she said severely.
"I wouldn't for worlds! I never was so much amused in my life.

Look at those girls--those sisters--in the huge velvet sleeves, like coloured balloons!--and that old lady in the pink tulle and diamonds .-- I do so want to get her her cloak! _And_ those Lancers!--I never could have imagined people danced like that.

They didn't dance them--they romped them! It wasn't beautiful--was it ?" "Why do you expect an English crowd to do anything beautiful?
If we could do it, we should be too ashamed." "But it _is_ beautiful, all the same, you scornful person!" cried Mary, dragging her friend down beside her.

"How pretty the girls are! And as for the diamonds, I never saw anything so wonderful.