Somehow, things seemed to get worse and worse, as the play went on; for our small spectator was being rapidly enlightened by the gossip going on all about her, as well as by her own quick eyes and girlish instincts.
When four-and-twenty girls, dressed as jockeys, came prancing on to the stage, cracking their whips, stamping the heels of their topboots, and winking at the audience, Polly did not think it at all funny, but looked disgusted, and was glad when they were gone; but when another set appeared in a costume consisting of gauze wings, and a bit of gold fringe round the waist, poor unfashionable Polly did n't know what to do; for she felt both frightened and indignant, and sat with her eyes on her play-bill, and her cheeks getting hotter and hotter every minute.
"What are you blushing so for ?" asked Fanny, as the painted sylphs vanished.
"I 'm so ashamed of those girls," whispered Polly, taking a long breath of relief.
"You little goose, it 's just the way it was done in Paris, and the dancing is splendid.

It seems queer at first; but you 'll get used to it, as I did." "I 'll never come again," said Polly, decidedly; for her innocent nature rebelled against the spectacle, which, as yet, gave her more pain than pleasure.

She did not know how easy it was to "get used to it," as Fanny did; and it was well for her that the temptation was not often offered.
She could not explain the feeling; but she was glad when the play was done, and they were safe at home, where kind grandma was waiting to see them comfortably into bed.
"Did you have a good time, dear ?" she asked, looking at Polly's feverish cheeks and excited eyes.
"I don't wish to be rude, but I did n't," answered Polly.

"Some of it was splendid; but a good deal of it made me want to go under the seat.
People seemed to like it, but I don't think it was proper." As Polly freed her mind, and emphasized her opinion with a decided rap of the boot she had just taken off, Fanny laughed, and said, while she pirouetted about the room, like Mademoiselle Therese, "Polly was shocked, grandma.

Her eyes were as big as saucers, her face as red as my sash, and once I thought she was going to cry.