To London Town by Arthur Morrison

THE weeks went, and the time neared when dancing at the Institute would end for the season -- would end with a bang and a dazzle in a "long night," when dancing would be kept up shamelessly till something nearer one o'clock than twelve. Johnny counted, first the weeks, then the days, and last the hours. Not because of the dancing, although that was amusing, but because he was to take Nora Sansom with his double ticket. For herself, she may have counted days and hours, or may not; but true it was that she sat up late on several nights, with nun's veiling and ribbons, making a dress for the occasion -- the first fine frock that had been hers. And every night she hid it carefully.

Each dressmaking-class night of late it had been Johnny's privilege to guard her home-going to the end of that second street -- never farther. Twice she had come to dancing, and by that small practice was already Johnny's superior at the exercise; for a big-shouldered novice of eleven stone two is a slower pupil than any girl of eighteen in the world. And they were very welcome one to the other, and acquaintance bettered day by day. Once Johnny ventured a question about the adventure of the morning, now more than three years ago, but learned little from Miss Sansom's answer. The lady who was ill was her relation, she said, and she found her; and then she talked of something else.