&ldquo;Then I can&rsquo;t go to dancing to-night?&rdquo; Cecily&rsquo;s voice shook. She hardly ever cried, but this had been an unexpected blow.<br />&ldquo;I sh&rsquo;d say not! Shouldn&rsquo;t think you&rsquo;d have the face to go, after last week,&rdquo; Sarah rejoined.<br />&ldquo;I never meant to be rude. Mrs. Raymond didn&rsquo;t mind; she understood,&rdquo; Cecily pleaded. &ldquo;Let me go, Sarah! I&rsquo;ll&mdash;I&rsquo;ll say I&rsquo;m sorry!&rdquo; It was the biggest offer she could make.<br />&ldquo;No fear! And her so kind, letting you into the class with all them grown folks. And then you go a-cheeking her right and left! You don&rsquo;t go back till you&rsquo;ve learnt how to behave proper, my girl.&rdquo;<br />&ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t mean to cheek her! The dancing works me up so. I didn&rsquo;t mean any harm,&rdquo; Cecily cried desperately.<br />&ldquo;Time you give it a holiday, then. Too much for you, that&rsquo;s what it is. Puts you all in a state every week. You don&rsquo;t know what you&rsquo;re doing,&rdquo; Sarah grumbled. &ldquo;You&rsquo;ll not go any more, Cess; not till I&rsquo;ve told Miss Maribel about last week and asked if she thinks it&rsquo;s proper for you. Goes to your head, that folk-dancing does.&mdash;I can&rsquo;t do nothing with her, dancing nights!&rdquo; she muttered, turning back to her work of ironing Cecily&rsquo;s gym blouse, ready for school next day.