This particular privilege consisted of Mavis’s being taken downstairs to Mr Poulter’s private sitting-room.  This was a homely apartment furnished with much-worn horsehair furniture, together with many framed and unframed flashlight photographs of various “Terpsichorean Festivals,” in all of which, conspicuous in the foreground, was Mr Poulter, wearing a big white rosette on the lapel of his evening coat.

“Smoke if you want to, won’t you?” said Mavis.

“Thank you,” replied Mr Poulter, “but I only smoke after ‘Poulter’s’ is closed.  It might give ‘Poulter’s’ a bad reputation if the young lady pupils went ’ome smelling of smoke.”

“’E thinks of everything,” declared Miss Nippett admiringly.

“‘Poulter’s’ is not deficient in worldly wisdom,” remarked the dancing-master with subdued pride.

“I’m sure of that,” said Mavis hypocritically, as she looked at the simple face of the kindly old man.

“Suppose we have a game of cards,” suggested Mr Poulter presently.

“Promise you won’t cheat,” said Mavis.

Mr Poulter laughed uneasily before saying: 

“‘Poulter’s’ would not occupy its present position if it were not for its straightforward dealing.  What shall we play?”

Mavis, feeling light-hearted, was on the point of saying “Snap,” but feared that the fact of her suggesting such a frivolous game might set her down as an improper person in the eyes of “Poulter’s.”

“Do you know ’Casino’?” asked Mr Poulter.

“I’m afraid I don’t,” replied Mavis.

“A grand old game; we must teach you another time.  What do you say to ’Old Maid’?”

They played “Old Maid” deliberately, solemnly.  After a time, Mavis had a strong suspicion that Miss Nippett was cheating in order that Mr Poulter might win; also, that Mr Poulter was manoeuvring the cards so that Mavis might not be declared “old maid.”

This belief was strengthened when Mavis heard Miss Nippett say to Mr Poulter, at the close of the game: 

“She ought to ’ave been ‘old maid.’”

“I know, I know,” replied Mr Poulter.  “But I want her first evening at ‘Poulter’s’ to be quite ’appy and ’omelike.”

“Did you easily find ’Poulter’s’?” asked Mr Poulter presently of Mavis.

“I had no number, so I had to ask,” she replied.

“Then, of course, you were directed at once,” suggested Mr Poulter eagerly.

Mavis’s consideration for the old man’s feelings was such that she thought a fib was justified.

“Yes,” she said.

Mr Poulter’s eyes lit with happiness.

“That’s the advantage of being connected with ‘Poulter’s,’” he said.  “You’ll find it a great help to you as you make your way in the world.”

“I’m sure of it,” remarked Mavis, with all the conviction she could muster.  After a few moments’ silence, she said: 

“There’s another dancing academy on the other side of the road.”