What Will People Say? - The Original Classic Edition. Hughes Rupert

cheap as to mix with those muckers, and forget her self-respect so far?"

       It was a weak voicing of Forbes' own repugnance, yet as soon as Willie spoke Forbes began to disagree with him. Willie was fatally established among those people with whom one hates to agree. As soon as one found Willie holding similar views, one's own views became suspect and distasteful--like food that is turned from in disgust because another's fork has touched it.

       And there might have been a trace of jealousy in Forbes' immediate anger at Enslee's opinions. In any case, here he was, in the notorious haunts of society, seated in its very unholy of unholies, and gazing on its pernicious rites, and saying to his host:

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       "I must say I don't see anything wrong."[Pg 45] CHAPTER VIII

       HARVEY FORBES came of a Southern stock that inherited its manners with its silver. Both were a trifle formal, yet very gracious

       and graceful.

       The family had lost its silver in the Civil War; but the formalities and the good manners remained as heirlooms that could be neither

       confiscated nor sold off.

       He had known something of New York as a cadet at West Point. He had seen the streets as he paraded them on one or two great occasions; he had known a few of its prominent families; but principally Southrons.

       He knew that the careful people of that day would have shuddered at the thought of dancing even a minuet in public. They surrounded admission to their festivities with every possible difficulty, and conducted themselves with rigid dignity in the general eye. Even the annual event of the Charity Ball had been countenanced only for the sake of charity, and fell into disfavor because of the promiscuity of it.

       In the Philippines Forbes had seen the two-step drive out the waltz; but it had not there, as here, almost ended the vogue of dancing

       altogether.

       And now, after a few years of immunity, people were tripping again as if the plague of the dancing sickness had broken out. The epidemic had taken a new form. Grace and romance were banished for grotesque and cynical antics. The very names of the dances were atrocious--bunny-hug, Texas Tommy, grizzly bear, turkey-trot.

       It was a peculiar revolution in social history that people who for so long had refused to dance in public or[Pg 46] at all should take

       up the dance and lay down their exclusiveness at the same time, and with a sort of mania; and that they should be converted to these steps by a dance that had first startled the country from the vaudeville stage, and had been greeted as a disgusting exhibition even for the cheaper theaters.

       By a strange insidiousness the evil rhythms had infected the general public. The oligarchy was infatuated to the point of finding any place a fit place. The aged were hobbling about. The very children were capering and refusing the more hallowed dances.

       Forbes was not ready to see how quickly such things lose their wickedness as they lose their novelty and rarity. "The devil has had those tunes long enough," said John Wesley, as he turned the ribald street ballads into hymns.

       But with Forbes, as with everybody, vice lost her hideous mien when her face became familiar. Like everybody else, he first endured, then pitied, then embraced. Later he would talk as Persis did and Ten Eyck; he would proclaim the turkey-trot a harmless romp, and the tango a simple walk around. Later still he would turn from them all in disgust, not because he repented, but because they were tiresome. But for the present he was smitten with revulsion. The very quality of the company had served as a proof of the evil mo-tive.

       Even though he told Willie Enslee he saw nothing wrong, he sat gasping as at a turbulent pool of iniquity.

       Motherly dowagers in ball costumes bumped and caromed from the ample forms of procuresses. Young women of high degree in the arms of the scions of great houses jostled and drifted with walkers of the better streets, chorus-girls who "saved their salary," sirens from behind the counters.

       As the dance swirled round and round among the gilded pillars, the same couples reeled again and again into view and out, like passengers on a merry-go-round.

       Forbes watched with the eager eyes of a fisher the re[Pg 47]appearance of Persis. It pleased him to see in her manner, and in Ten Eyck's, an entire absence of grossness; but it hurt him surprisingly to see her in such a crew and responding to the music of songs whose words, unsung but easily remembered or imagined, were all concerned with "teasing," "squeezing," "tantalizing," "hypnotiz-ing," "honey babe," "hold me tight," "keep on a-playin'," "don't stop till I drop," and all the amorous animality of the slums.

       He found himself indignant at Ten Eyck's intimacy with the wonderful girl. They clung together as closely as they could and breathe.

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       Now they sidled, now they trotted, now twirled madly as on a pivot. Their feet seemed to be manacled together except when they dipped a knee almost to the ground and thrust the other foot far back.

       Then gradually, in spite of him, the music began to invade his own feet. He felt a yearning in his ankles. The tune took on a kind of care-free swagger, a flip boastfulness. He wanted to get up and brag, too. His feeling for Ten Eyck was not of reproof, but of envy. He longed to take his place.

       When at length the music ended he felt as if he had missed an opportunity that he must not miss again. He had witnessed a display of knowledge which he must make his own.

       Ten Eyck brought Persis back to the table, and the other women returned, Mrs. Neff 's partner nodding his head with a breathless satisfaction as he relinquished her and rejoined his own group.

       The eyes of all the women were full of sated languor. They had given their youthful spirits play, and they were enjoying a refreshed fatigue.

       The waiter had meanwhile set cocktails about, and deposited two silver pails full of broken ice, from which gold-necked bottles

       protruded. And at each place there were slices of toast covered with the black shot of caviar.[Pg 48] The dancers fell on the appetizers with the appetite of harvesters. Persis thrilled Forbes with a careless: "It's too bad you don't trot, Mr. Forbes."

       "He's not too old to learn," said Ten Eyck. "It's really very simple, once you get the hang of it." And he fell into a description of the technic.

       "The main thing is to keep your feet as far from each other as you can, and as close to your partner's as you can. And you've got to hold her tight. Then just step out and trot; twirl around once in a while, and once in a while do a dip. Keep your body still and dance from your hips. And--get up here a minute and I'll show you."

       Forbes was embarrassed completely when Ten Eyck made him stand up and embrace him. But the people around made no more fun of them than revivalists make of a preacher and a new convert. They were proselytes to the new fanaticism. Forbes, as awkward as

       an overgrown school-boy, picked up a few ideas in spite of his reluctance.

       He sat down flushed with confusion, but determined to retrieve himself. In a little while the music struck up once more.

       "L'ave your pick in the air, the band's begun again," said Ten Eyck. "Come on, Winifred!" Bob Fielding lifted Mrs. Neff to her feet

       and haled her away, and Persis was left to Forbes.

       "Don't you want to try it?" she said, with an irresistible simplicity. "I'm afraid I'd disgrace you."

       "You can't do that. Come along. We'll practise it here."

       She was on her feet, and he could not refuse. He rose, and she came into his arms. Before he knew it they were swaying together. He had a native sense of rhythm, and he had been a famous dancer of the old dances.

       He felt extremely foolish as he sidled, dragging one foot[Pg 49] after the other. He trod on her toes, and smote her with his knee-

       caps, but she only laughed.

       "You're getting it! That's right. Don't be afraid!"

       Her confidence and her demand gave him courage like a bugle-call. But he could not master the whirl till she said, as calmly as if she were a gymnastic instructor: