CHAPTER XII MISS RENNSDALE ACCEPTS
"One-two-three; one-two-three--glide!" said Professor Bartet,emphasizing his instructions by a brisk collision of his palms at"glide." "One-two-three; one-two-three--glide!"
The school week was over, at last, but Penrod's troubles were not.
Round and round the ballroom went the seventeen struggling littlecouples of the Friday Afternoon Dancing Class. Round and round wenttheir reflections with them, swimming rhythmically in the polished, darkfloor--white and blue and pink for the girls; black, with dabs of white,for the white-collared, white-gloved boys; and sparks and sliversof high light everywhere as the glistening pumps flickered along thesurface like a school of flying fish. Every small pink face--with oneexception--was painstaking and set for duty. It was a conscientiouslittle merry-go-round.
"One-two-three; one-two-three--glide! One-two-three;one-two-three--glide! One-two-th--Ha! Mister Penrod Schofield, you losethe step. Your left foot! No, no! This is the left! See--like me! Nowagain! One-two-three; one-two-three--glide! Better! Much better! Again!One-two-three; one-two-three--gl--Stop! Mr. Penrod Schofield, thisdancing class is provided by the kind parents of the pupilses as muchto learn the mannerss of good societies as to dance. You think you shallever see a gentleman in good societies to tickle his partner in thedance till she say Ouch? Never! I assure you it is not done. Again! Nowthen! Piano, please! One-two-three; one-two-three--glide! Mr. PenrodSchofield, your right foot--your right foot! No, no! Stop!"
The merry-go-round came to a standstill.
"Mr. Penrod Schofield and partner"--Professor Bartet wiped hisbrow--"will you kindly observe me? One-two-three--glide! So! Nowthen--no; you will please keep your places, ladies and gentlemen. Mr.Penrod Schofield, I would puttickly like your attention, this is foryou!"
"Pickin' on me again!" murmured the smouldering Penrod to his small,unsympathetic partner. "Can't let me alone a minute!"
"Mister Georgie Bassett, please step to the centre," said the professor.
Mr. Bassett complied with modest alacrity.
"Teacher's pet!" whispered Penrod hoarsely. He had nothing but contemptfor Georgie Bassett. The parents, guardians, aunts, uncles, cousins,governesses, housemaids, cooks, chauffeurs and coachmen, appertaining tothe members of the dancing class, all dwelt in the same part of town andshared certain communal theories; and among the most firmly establishedwas that which maintained Georgie Bassett to be the Best Boy in Town.Contrariwise, the unfortunate Penrod, largely because of his recentdazzling but disastrous attempts to control forces far beyond him,had been given a clear title as the Worst Boy in Town. (Population,135,000.) To precisely what degree his reputation was the product ofhis own energies cannot be calculated. It was Marjorie Jones who firstapplied the description, in its definite simplicity, the day after the"pageant," and, possibly, her frequent and effusive repetitions of it,even upon wholly irrelevant occasions, had something to do with itsprompt and quite perfect acceptance by the community.
"Miss Rennsdale will please do me the fafer to be Mr. Georgie Bassett'spartner for one moment," said Professor Bartet. "Mr. Penrod Schofieldwill please give his attention. Miss Rennsdale and Mister Bassett,obliche me, if you please. Others please watch. Piano, please! Nowthen!"
Miss Rennsdale, aged eight--the youngest lady in the class--and Mr.Georgie Bassett one-two-three--glided with consummate technique for thebetter education of Penrod Schofield. It is possible that amber-curled,beautiful Marjorie felt that she, rather than Miss Rennsdale, might havebeen selected as the example of perfection--or perhaps her remark wasonly woman.
"Stopping everybody for that boy!" said Marjorie.
Penrod, across the circle from her, heard distinctly--nay, he wasobviously intended to hear; but over a scorched heart he preserved astoic front. Whereupon Marjorie whispered derisively in the ear of herpartner, Maurice Levy, who wore a pearl pin in his tie.
"Again, please, everybody--ladies and gentlemen!" cried ProfessorBartet. "Mister Penrod Schofield, if you please, pay putticklyattention! Piano, please! Now then!"
The lesson proceeded. At the close of the hour Professor Bartet steppedto the centre of the room and clapped his hands for attention.
"Ladies and gentlemen, if you please to seat yourselves quietly," hesaid; "I speak to you now about to-morrow. As you all know--MisterPenrod Schofield, I am not sticking up in a tree outside that window! Ifyou do me the fafer to examine I am here, insides of the room. Now then!Piano, pl--no, I do not wish the piano! As you all know, this is thelast lesson of the season until next October. Tomorrow is our specialafternoon; beginning three o'clock, we dance the cotillon. But thisafternoon comes the test of mannerss. You must see if each know how tomake a little formal call like a grown-up people in good societies. Youhave had good, perfect instruction; let us see if we know how to performlike societies ladies and gentlemen twenty-six years of age.
"Now, when you're dismissed each lady will go to her home and prepare toreceive a call. The gentlemen will allow the ladies time to reach theirhouses and to prepare to receive callers; then each gentleman will callupon a lady and beg the pleasure to engage her for a partner in thecotillon to-morrow. You all know the correct, proper form for thesecalls, because didn't I work teaching you last lesson till I thoughtI would drop dead? Yes! Now each gentleman, if he reach a lady's housebehind some-other gentleman, then he must go somewhere else to a lady'shouse, and keep calling until he secures a partner; so, as there are thesame number of both, everybody shall have a partner.
"Now please all remember that if in case--Mister Penrod Schofield, whenyou make your call on a lady I beg you to please remember that gentlemenin good societies do not scratch the back in societies as you appear toattempt; so please allow the hands to rest carelessly in the lap. Nowplease all remember that if in case--Mister Penrod Schofield, if youplease! Gentlemen in societies do not scratch the back by causingfrictions between it and the back of your chair, either! Nobody else isitching here! _I_ do not itch! I cannot talk if you must itch! In thename of Heaven, why must you always itch? What was I saying? Where ah!the cotillon--yes! For the cotillon it is important nobody shall failto be here tomorrow; but if any one should be so very ill he cannotpossible come he must write a very polite note of regrets in the formof good societies to his engaged partner to excuse himself--and he mustgive the reason.
"I do not think anybody is going to be that sick to-morrow--no; and Iwill find out and report to parents if anybody would try it and not be.But it is important for the cotillon that we have an even number of somany couples, and if it should happen that someone comes and her partnerhas sent her a polite note that he has genuine reasons why he cannotcome, the note must be handed at once to me, so that I arrange someother partner. Is all understood? Yes. The gentlemen will remember nowto allow the ladies plenty of time to reach their houses and prepareto receive calls. Ladies and gentlemen, I thank you for your politeattention."
It was nine blocks to the house of Marjorie Jones; but Penrod did it inless than seven minutes from a flying start--such was his haste to layhimself and his hand for the cotillon at the feet of one who had sorecently spoken unamiably of him in public. He had not yet learned thatthe only safe male rebuke to a scornful female is to stay away fromher--especially if that is what she desires. However, he did not wishto rebuke her; simply and ardently he wished to dance the cotillon withher. Resentment was swallowed up in hope.
The fact that Miss Jones' feeling for him bore a striking resemblance tothat of Simon Legree for Uncle Tom, deterred him not at all. Naturally,he was not wholly unconscious that when he should lay his hand for thecotillon at her feet it would be her inward desire to step on it; buthe believed that if he were first in the field Marjorie would have toaccept. These things are governed by law.
It was his fond intention to reach her house even in advance of herself,and with grave misgiving he beheld a large automobile at rest before thesainted gate. Forthwith, a sinking feeling became a portent inside himas little Maurice L
evy emerged from the front door of the house.
"'Lo, Penrod!" said Maurice airily.
"What you doin' in there?" inquired Penrod.
"In where?"
"In Marjorie's."
"Well, what shouldn't I be doin' in Marjorie's?" Mr. Levy returnedindignantly. "I was inviting her for my partner in the cotillon--whatyou s'pose?"
"You haven't got any right to!" Penrod protested hotly. "You can't do ityet."
"I did do it yet!" said Maurice.
"You can't!" insisted Penrod. "You got to allow them time first. He saidthe ladies had to be allowed time to prepare."
"Well, ain't she had time to prepare?"
"When?" Penrod demanded, stepping close to his rival threateningly. "I'dlike to know when----"
"When?" echoed the other with shrill triumph. "When? Why, in mamma'ssixty-horse powder limousine automobile, what Marjorie came home with mein! I guess that's when!"
An impulse in the direction of violence became visible upon thecountenance of Penrod.
"I expect you need some wiping down," he began dangerously. "I'll giveyou sumpthing to remem----"
"Oh, you will!" Maurice cried with astonishing truculence, contortinghimself into what he may have considered a posture of defense. "Let'ssee you try it, you--you itcher!"
For the moment, defiance from such a source was dumfounding. Then,luckily, Penrod recollected something and glanced at the automobile.
Perceiving therein not only the alert chauffeur but the magnificentoutlines of Mrs. Levy, his enemy's mother, he manoeuvred his lifted handso that it seemed he had but meant to scratch his ear.
"Well, I guess I better be goin'," he said casually. "See you tomorrow!"
Maurice mounted to the lap of luxury, and Penrod strolled away with anassumption of careless ease which was put to a severe strain when, fromthe rear window of the car, a sudden protuberance in the nature of asmall, dark, curly head shrieked scornfully:
"Go on--you big stiff!"
The cotillon loomed dismally before Penrod now; but it was his dutyto secure a partner and he set about it with a dreary heart. The delayoccasioned by his fruitless attempt on Marjorie and the altercation withhis enemy at her gate had allowed other ladies ample time to prepare forcallers--and to receive them. Sadly he went from house to house, findingthat he had been preceded in one after the other. Altogether hishand for the cotillon was declined eleven times that afternoon on thelegitimate ground of previous engagement. This, with Marjorie, scoredoff all except five of the seventeen possible partners; and four of thefive were also sealed away from him, as he learned in chance encounterswith other boys upon the street.
One lady alone remained; he bowed to the inevitable and entered thislorn damsel's gate at twilight with an air of great discouragement. Thelorn damsel was Miss Rennsdale, aged eight.
We are apt to forget that there are actually times of life when too muchyouth is a handicap. Miss Rennsdale was beautiful; she danced like apremiere; she had every charm but age. On that account alone had shebeen allowed so much time to prepare to receive callers that it was onlyby the most manful efforts she could keep her lip from trembling.
A decorous maid conducted the long-belated applicant to her where shesat upon a sofa beside a nursery governess. The decorous maid announcedhim composedly as he made his entrance.
"Mr. Penrod Schofield!"
Miss Rennsdale suddenly burst into loud sobs.
"Oh!" she wailed. "I just knew it would be him!"
The decorous maid's composure vanished at once--likewise her decorum.She clapped her hand over her mouth and fled, uttering sounds. Thegoverness, however, set herself to comfort her heartbroken charge, andpresently succeeded in restoring Miss Rennsdale to a semblance of thatpoise with which a lady receives callers and accepts invitations todance cotillons. But she continued to sob at intervals.
Feeling himself at perhaps a disadvantage, Penrod made offer of hishand for the morrow with a little embarrassment. Following the formprescribed by Professor Bartet, he advanced several paces toward thestricken lady and bowed formally.
"I hope," he said by rote, "you're well, and your parents also in goodhealth. May I have the pleasure of dancing the cotillon as your partnert'-morrow afternoon?"
The wet eyes of Miss Rennsdale searched his countenance withoutpleasure, and a shudder wrung her small shoulders; but the governesswhispered to her instructively, and she made a great effort.
"I thu-thank you fu-for your polite invu-invu-invutation; and I ac----"Thus far she progressed when emotion overcame her again. She beatfrantically upon the sofa with fists and heels. "Oh, I DID want it to beGeorgie Bassett!"
"No, no, no!" said the governess, and whispered urgently, whereupon MissRennsdale was able to complete her acceptance.
"And I ac-accept wu-with pu-pleasure!" she moaned, and immediately,uttering a loud yell, flung herself face downward upon the sofa,clutching her governess convulsively.
Somewhat disconcerted, Penrod bowed again.
"I thank you for your polite acceptance," he murmured hurriedly; "andI trust--I trust--I forget. Oh, yes--I trust we shall have a mostenjoyable occasion. Pray present my compliments to your parents; and Imust now wish you a very good afternoon."
Concluding these courtly demonstrations with another bow he withdrew infair order, though thrown into partial confusion in the hall by a finalwail from his crushed hostess:
"Oh! Why couldn't it be anybody but HIM!"
Penrod Page 12