She was the prettiest thing at the party , there was no doubt of that . What was he saying ? Rilla could hardly believe her ears . `` Can we have a dance ? '' `` Yes , '' said Rilla . She said it with such a fierce determination not to lisp that she fairly blurted the word out . Then she writhed in spirit again . It sounded so bold -- so eager -- as if she were fairly jumping at him ! What would he think of her ? Oh , why did dreadful things like this happen , just when a girl wanted to appear at her best ? Kenneth drew her in among the dancers . `` I think this game ankle of mine is good for one hop around , at least , '' he said . `` How is your ankle ? '' said Rilla . Oh , why could n't she think of something else to say ? She knew he was sick of inquiries about his ankle . She had heard him say so at Ingleside -- heard him tell Di he was going to wear a placard on his breast announcing to all and sundry that the ankle was improving , etc. . And now she must go and ask this stale question again . Kenneth was tired of inquiries about his ankle . But then he had not often been asked about it by lips with such an adorable kissable dent just above them .
Perhaps that was why he answered very patiently that it was getting on well and did n't trouble him much , if he did n't walk or stand too long XXXXX a time .
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