But the machine was getting a
little tired. It was hard work to stand for two hours or more, and Mrs.
Tracy had impressed it upon him that he was not to sit down. But when
Mrs. St. Claire came from the dressing-room and stood before him a
moment in her crimson satin and pearls, he forgot his weariness and
forgot that he was not to talk, and said to her, involuntarily:
'Oh, Mrs. St. Claire, how handsome you look! Handsomer than anybody yet,
and different, too, somehow.'
Edith knew the compliment was genuine, and she replied:
'Thank you, Harold,' then, laying her hand on the boy's head and parting
his soft, brown hair, she said, as she noticed a look of fatigue in his
eyes, 'are you not tired, standing so long? Why don't you bring a chair
from one of the rooms and sit when you can?'
'She told me to stand,' Harold replied, nodding toward the parlors, from
which a strain of music then issued.
The dancing had commenced, and Harold's feet and hands beat time to the
lively strains of the piano and violin, until he could contain himself
no longer. The dancing he must see at all hazards and know what it was
like, and when the last guests came up the stairs there was no hall boy
there to tell them, 'Ladies this way, gentlemen that,' for Harold was in
the thickest of the crowd, standing on a chair so as to look over the
heads of those in front of him and see the dancers.
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