impression.”
“To a ball? But there was no mention of a ball.”
“It mentioned dancing. And being invited to dance at a private house is a private ball. It’s the last word in vulgarity to invite someone to a ‘ball’ or an ‘evening party.’ No hostess of worth would ever think of such a thing. But to mention dancing … then a ball is assumed.”
“I can’t dance.”
“If it’s at the Moffatts’, then it’s virtually assured that the De Vries heir will be there. It will be your chance to make a first and lasting impression.”
She clearly hadn’t heard me. I repeated my objection. “I can’t dance.”
“It will be cold, of course, and possibly snowy. But I think that you should wear your debutante’s gown. Still. It will be expected.”
“But, Aunt, I can’t dance.” I spoke the words louder this time.
“What do you mean you can’t dance?”
“I can’t.”
She sat up a bit straighter as her brows knit themselves together. “But … surely you’ve had lessons.”
“I haven’t.”
“You haven’t?”
“No. I can’t dance.”
A lighter shade of pale swept her features. “You never, not once in your seventeen years, attended dancing school?”
I shook my head.
“Never?”
“No.”
“You can’t dance! What did Miss Miller teach you?”
“She taught me to sing.”
“Yes. Good. But you should have been taught to sing and dance.” Her cheeks flushed a furious shade of red. “You’ve been educated by halves! Why didn’t you say something? Before now?”
I began to shrug, but thought better of it.
“Didn’t you know you ought to have had lessons?”
I could not lie. Not under the scorching heat of Aunt’s glare. “I guess … I mean … Lizzie was always telling me about her dance lessons . . .”
“And why didn’t you realize you ought to be taking them as well? Why didn’t you say something?”
Say something? And have to take lessons myself! “I thought … I just … I thought it was providential.”
“Then you can thank providence that you’ll have to learn in one week what you should have been learning over the past two years. I should have left those Stuarts long ago!”
Aunt discussed my plight with Father over dinner and it was agreed that Mr. Drake himself, of Drake’s Dance Academy, would be hired to tutor me at home because, as Aunt argued, “We can’t send her to him and admit that she knows nothing at all. Not at her age.”
At my reception I had only had to greet people and bid them good-bye. But at the ball I would be expected to converse. And flirt. And dance. This private ball could be my ruin.
Two days later, Aunt sat in the parlor watching me dance with Mr. Drake as she wrung her hands. “I don’t know how you shall accomplish any of it.”
I had just attempted a waltz with the instructor. It had not gone well.
“You learned the lancers and the schottische and the polka with perfect ease. What is wrong with you? The waltz is the easiest dance among them!”
The lancers had set figures. It was danced with several couples, in a square. The movements consisted of clasping and unclasping hands, stepping into the center and then stepping out, forming a chain to pass about the circle, and other simple patterns.
The polka had just several movements: the slide, change, leap, and hop. Depending upon the particular polka, they were performed in different arrangements. All I had to do was memorize the order. After having studied Latin and Italian and mathematics, memorizing a set of patterns posed no difficulty. And the schottische contained all the polka movements, though they were combined in different ways and set to different music. If I could commit the order of the sets to memory, and I believed I had, I could perform them as well as anyone.
But the waltz was different. The waltz had no predetermined pattern. Certainly, it was made up of very simple steps, but there was no predicting when the dance master would turn or
“To a ball? But there was no mention of a ball.”
“It mentioned dancing. And being invited to dance at a private house is a private ball. It’s the last word in vulgarity to invite someone to a ‘ball’ or an ‘evening party.’ No hostess of worth would ever think of such a thing. But to mention dancing … then a ball is assumed.”
“I can’t dance.”
“If it’s at the Moffatts’, then it’s virtually assured that the De Vries heir will be there. It will be your chance to make a first and lasting impression.”
She clearly hadn’t heard me. I repeated my objection. “I can’t dance.”
“It will be cold, of course, and possibly snowy. But I think that you should wear your debutante’s gown. Still. It will be expected.”
“But, Aunt, I can’t dance.” I spoke the words louder this time.
“What do you mean you can’t dance?”
“I can’t.”
She sat up a bit straighter as her brows knit themselves together. “But … surely you’ve had lessons.”
“I haven’t.”
“You haven’t?”
“No. I can’t dance.”
A lighter shade of pale swept her features. “You never, not once in your seventeen years, attended dancing school?”
I shook my head.
“Never?”
“No.”
“You can’t dance! What did Miss Miller teach you?”
“She taught me to sing.”
“Yes. Good. But you should have been taught to sing and dance.” Her cheeks flushed a furious shade of red. “You’ve been educated by halves! Why didn’t you say something? Before now?”
I began to shrug, but thought better of it.
“Didn’t you know you ought to have had lessons?”
I could not lie. Not under the scorching heat of Aunt’s glare. “I guess … I mean … Lizzie was always telling me about her dance lessons . . .”
“And why didn’t you realize you ought to be taking them as well? Why didn’t you say something?”
Say something? And have to take lessons myself! “I thought … I just … I thought it was providential.”
“Then you can thank providence that you’ll have to learn in one week what you should have been learning over the past two years. I should have left those Stuarts long ago!”
Aunt discussed my plight with Father over dinner and it was agreed that Mr. Drake himself, of Drake’s Dance Academy, would be hired to tutor me at home because, as Aunt argued, “We can’t send her to him and admit that she knows nothing at all. Not at her age.”
At my reception I had only had to greet people and bid them good-bye. But at the ball I would be expected to converse. And flirt. And dance. This private ball could be my ruin.
Two days later, Aunt sat in the parlor watching me dance with Mr. Drake as she wrung her hands. “I don’t know how you shall accomplish any of it.”
I had just attempted a waltz with the instructor. It had not gone well.
“You learned the lancers and the schottische and the polka with perfect ease. What is wrong with you? The waltz is the easiest dance among them!”
The lancers had set figures. It was danced with several couples, in a square. The movements consisted of clasping and unclasping hands, stepping into the center and then stepping out, forming a chain to pass about the circle, and other simple patterns.
The polka had just several movements: the slide, change, leap, and hop. Depending upon the particular polka, they were performed in different arrangements. All I had to do was memorize the order. After having studied Latin and Italian and mathematics, memorizing a set of patterns posed no difficulty. And the schottische contained all the polka movements, though they were combined in different ways and set to different music. If I could commit the order of the sets to memory, and I believed I had, I could perform them as well as anyone.
But the waltz was different. The waltz had no predetermined pattern. Certainly, it was made up of very simple steps, but there was no predicting when the dance master would turn or
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