Fanny clapped her hands with admiration, and Mademoiselle cried, “Bien, tres bien, charmante, ma cherie!” as she paused at last, rosy and smiling, with one hand on her heart and the other at her temple with the salute that closed the dance.

“I must learn it!  Do come and give me lessons at our house.  I called for Maud and must go now.  Will you come, Jessie?  I’ll be glad to pay you if you don’t mind.  I hate to be laughed at; and I know if some one would just help me alone I should do as well as the rest, for Professor Ludwig raves at us all.”

Fanny seemed in such a sad strait, and Jessie sympathized so heartily with her, that she could not refuse a request which flattered her vanity and tempted her with a prospect of some addition to the “Sister-fund,” as she called her little savings.  So she graciously consented, and after a few laborious lessons prospered so well that her grateful pupil proposed to several other unsuccessful dancers in the set to invite Jessie to the private rehearsals held in various parlors as the festival drew near.

Some of these young people knew Jessie Delano, had missed the bright girl, and gladly welcomed her back when, after much persuasion, she agreed to go and help them with the difficult figures of the tzardas.  Once among them she felt in her element, and trained the awkward squad so well that Professor Ludwig complimented them on their improvement at the public rehearsals, and raved no more, to the great delight of the timid damsels, who lost their wits when the fiery little man shouted and wrung his hands over their mistakes.

The young gentlemen needed help also, as several of them looked very much like galvanized grasshoppers in their efforts to manage long legs or awkward elbows.  Jessie willingly danced with them, and showed them how to move with grace and spirit, and handle their partners less like dolls and more like peasant maidens with whom the martial Hungarians were supposed to be disporting themselves at the fair.  Merry meetings were these; and all enjoyed them, as young people do whatever is lively, dramatic, and social.  Every one was full of the brilliant Kirmess, which was the talk of the city, and to which every one intended to go as actor or spectator.  Jessie was sadly tempted to spend three of her cherished dollars for a ticket, and perhaps would have done so if there had been any one to take care of her.  Laura could not go, and Mr. Vane was away; no other friend appeared, and no one remembered to invite her, so she bravely hid her girlish longing, and got all the pleasure out of the rehearsals that she could.