Page 28 of Wives and Daughters


  CHAPTER XXVI.

  A CHARITY BALL.

  At the present time there are few people at a public ball besides thedancers and their chaperones, or relations in some degree interestedin them. But in the days when Molly and Cynthia were young--beforerailroads were, and before their consequences, the excursion-trains,which take every one up to London now-a-days, there to see their fillof gay crowds and fine dresses--to go to an annual charity-ball, eventhough all thought of dancing had passed by years ago, and withoutany of the responsibilities of a chaperone, was a very allowableand favourite piece of dissipation to all the kindly old maids whothronged the country towns of England. They aired their old lace andtheir best dresses; they saw the aristocratic magnates of the countryside; they gossipped with their coevals, and speculated on theromances of the young around them in a curious yet friendly spirit.The Miss Brownings would have thought themselves sadly defraudedof the gayest event of the year, if anything had prevented theirattending the charity ball, and Miss Browning would have beenindignant, Miss Phoebe aggrieved, had they not been asked toAshcombe and Coreham, by friends at each place, who had, like them,gone through the dancing-stage of life some five-and-twenty yearsbefore, but who liked still to haunt the scenes of their formerenjoyment, and see a younger generation dance on "regardless of theirdoom." They had come in one of the two sedan-chairs that yet lingeredin use at Hollingford; such a night as this brought a regular harvestof gains to the two old men who, in what was called the "town'slivery," trotted backwards and forwards with their many loads ofladies and finery. There were some postchaises, and some "flys," butafter mature deliberation Miss Browning had decided to keep to themore comfortable custom of the sedan-chair; "which," as she said toMiss Piper, one of her visitors, "came into the parlour, and got fullof the warm air, and nipped you up, and carried you tight and cosyinto another warm room, where you could walk out without having toshow your legs by going up steps, or down steps." Of course only onecould go at a time; but here again a little of Miss Browning's goodmanagement arranged everything so very nicely, as Miss Hornblower(their other visitor) remarked. She went first, and remained in thewarm cloak-room until her hostess followed; and then the two ladieswent arm-in-arm into the ball-room, finding out convenient seatswhence they could watch the arrivals and speak to their passingfriends, until Miss Phoebe and Miss Piper entered, and came to takepossession of the seats reserved for them by Miss Browning's care.These two younger ladies came in, also arm-in-arm, but with a certaintimid flurry in look and movement very different from the composeddignity of their seniors (by two or three years). When all fourwere once more assembled together, they took breath, and began toconverse.

  "Upon my word, I really do think this is a better room than ourAshcombe Court-house!"

  "And how prettily it is decorated!" piped out Miss Piper. "How wellthe roses are made! But you all have such taste at Hollingford."

  "There's Mrs. Dempster," cried Miss Hornblower; "she said she and hertwo daughters were asked to stay at Mr. Sheepshanks'. Mr. Prestonwas to be there, too; but I suppose they could not all come at once.Look! and there is young Roscoe, our new doctor. I declare it seemsas if all Ashcombe were here. Mr. Roscoe! Mr. Roscoe! come here andlet me introduce you to Miss Browning, the friend we are stayingwith. We think very highly of our young doctor, I can assure you,Miss Browning."

  Mr. Roscoe bowed, and simpered at hearing his own praises. But MissBrowning had no notion of having any doctor praised, who had come tosettle on the very verge of Mr. Gibson's practice, so she said toMiss Hornblower,--

  "You must be glad, I am sure, to have somebody you can call in, ifyou are in any sudden hurry, or for things that are too triflingto trouble Mr. Gibson about; and I should think Mr. Roscoe wouldfeel it a great advantage to profit, as he will naturally have theopportunity of doing, by witnessing Mr. Gibson's skill!"

  Probably Mr. Roscoe would have felt more aggrieved by this speechthan he really was, if his attention had not been called off justthen by the entrance of the very Mr. Gibson who was being spoken of.Almost before Miss Browning had ended her severe and depreciatoryremarks, he had asked his friend Miss Hornblower,--

  "Who is that lovely girl in pink, just come in?"

  "Why, that's Cynthia Kirkpatrick!" said Miss Hornblower, taking up aponderous gold eyeglass to make sure of her fact. "How she has grown!To be sure, it is two or three years since she left Ashcombe--she wasvery pretty then--people did say Mr. Preston admired her very much;but she was so young!"

  "Can you introduce me?" asked the impatient young surgeon. "I shouldlike to ask her to dance."

  When Miss Hornblower returned from her greeting to her formeracquaintance, Mrs. Gibson, and had accomplished the introductionwhich Mr. Roscoe had requested, she began her little confidences toMiss Browning.

  "Well, to be sure! How condescending we are! I remember the time whenMrs. Kirkpatrick wore old black silks, and was thankful and civilas became her place as a schoolmistress, and as having to earn herbread. And now she is in a satin; and she speaks to me as if shejust could recollect who I was, if she tried very hard! It isn't solong ago since Mrs. Dempster came to consult me as to whether Mrs.Kirkpatrick would be offended, if she sent her a new breadth forher lilac silk-gown, in place of one that had been spoilt by Mrs.Dempster's servant spilling the coffee over it the night before; andshe took it and was thankful, for all she's dressed in pearl-greysatin now! And she would have been glad enough to marry Mr. Prestonin those days."

  "I thought you said he admired her daughter," put in Miss Browning toher irritated friend.

  "Well! perhaps I did, and perhaps it was so; I'm sure I can't tell;he was a great deal at the house. Miss Dixon keeps a school in thesame house now, and I'm sure she does it a great deal better."

  "The earl and the countess are very fond of Mrs. Gibson," said MissBrowning. "I know, for Lady Harriet told us when she came to drinktea with us last autumn; and they desired Mr. Preston to be veryattentive to her when she lived at Ashcombe."

  "For goodness' sake don't go and repeat what I've been sayingabout Mr. Preston and Mrs. Kirkpatrick to her ladyship. One may bemistaken, and you know I only said 'people talked about it.'"

  Miss Hornblower was evidently alarmed lest her gossip should berepeated to the Lady Harriet, who appeared to be on such an intimatefooting with her Hollingford friends. Nor did Miss Browning dissipatethe illusion. Lady Harriet had drunk tea with them, and might do itagain; and, at any rate, the little fright she had put her friendinto was not a bad return for that praise of Mr. Roscoe, which hadoffended Miss Browning's loyalty to Mr. Gibson.

  Meanwhile Miss Piper and Miss Phoebe, who had not the character of_esprit-forts_ to maintain, talked of the dresses of the peoplepresent, beginning by complimenting each other.

  "What a lovely turban you have got on, Miss Piper, if I may beallowed to say so: so becoming to your complexion!"

  "Do you think so?" said Miss Piper, with ill-concealed gratificationit was something to have a "complexion" at forty-five. "I got itat Brown's, at Somerton, for this very ball. I thought I must havesomething to set off my gown, which isn't quite so new as it oncewas; and I have no handsome jewellery like you"--looking withadmiring eyes at a large miniature set round with pearls, whichserved as a shield to Miss Phoebe's breast.

  "It is handsome," that lady replied. "It is a likeness of my dearmother; Dorothy has got my father on. The miniatures were both takenat the same time; and just about then my uncle died and left us eacha legacy of fifty pounds, which we agreed to spend on the setting ofour miniatures. But because they are so valuable Dorothy always keepsthem locked up with the best silver, and hides the box somewhere; shenever will tell me where, because she says I've such weak nerves, andthat if a burglar, with a loaded pistol at my head, were to ask mewhere we kept our plate and jewels, I should be sure to tell him; andshe says, for her part, she would never think of revealing under anycircumstances. (I'm sure I hope she won't be tried.) But that's thereason I don't wear it often; it's only th
e second time I've had iton and I can't even get at it, and look at it, which I should liketo do. I shouldn't have had it on to-night, but that Dorothy gaveit out to me, saying it was but a proper compliment to pay to theDuchess of Menteith, who is to be here in all her diamonds."

  "Dear-ah-me! Is she really! Do you know I never saw a duchessbefore." And Miss Piper drew herself up and craned her neck, as ifresolved to "behave herself properly," as she had been taught todo at boarding-school thirty years before, in the presence of "hergrace." By-and-by she said to Miss Phoebe, with a sudden jerk outof position,--"Look, look! that's our Mr. Cholmley, the magistrate"(he was the great man of Coreham), "and that's Mrs. Cholmley in redsatin, and Mr. George and Mr. Harry from Oxford, I do declare; andMiss Cholmley, and pretty Miss Sophy. I should like to go and speakto them, but then it's so formidable crossing a room without agentleman. And there is Coxe the butcher and his wife! Why allCoreham seems to be here! And how Mrs. Coxe can afford such a gown Ican't make out for one, for I know Coxe had some difficulty in payingfor the last sheep he bought of my brother."

  Just at this moment the band, consisting of two violins, a harp, andan occasional clarionet, having finished their tuning, and broughtthemselves as nearly into accord as was possible, struck up a briskcountry-dance, and partners quickly took their places. Mrs. Gibsonwas secretly a little annoyed at Cynthia's being one of thoseto stand up in this early dance, the performers in which wereprincipally the punctual plebeians of Hollingford, who, when a ballwas fixed to begin at eight, had no notion of being later, and solosing part of the amusement for which they had paid their money. Sheimparted some of her feelings to Molly, sitting by her, longing todance, and beating time to the spirited music with one of her prettylittle feet.

  "Your dear papa is always so very punctual! To-night it seems almosta pity, for we really are here before there is any one come that weknow."

  "Oh! I see so many people here that I know. There are Mr. and Mrs.Smeaton, and that nice good-tempered daughter."

  "Oh! booksellers and butchers if you will."

  "Papa has found a great many friends to talk to."

  "Patients, my dear--hardly friends. There are some nice-lookingpeople here," catching her eye on the Cholmleys; "but I daresay theyhave driven over from the neighbourhood of Ashcombe or Coreham, andhave hardly calculated how soon they would get here. I wonder whenthe Towers' party will come. Ah! there's Mr. Ashton, and Mr. Preston.Come, the room is beginning to fill."

  So it was, for this was to be a very good ball, people said; and alarge party from the Towers was coming, and a duchess in diamondsamong the number. Every great house in the district was expected tobe full of guests on these occasions; but at this early hour, thetownspeople had the floor almost entirely to themselves; the countymagnates came dropping in later; and chiefest among them all was thelord-lieutenant from the Towers. But to-night they were unusuallylate, and the aristocratic ozone being absent from the atmosphere,there was a flatness about the dancing of all those who consideredthemselves above the plebeian ranks of the tradespeople. They,however, enjoyed themselves thoroughly, and sprang and boundedtill their eyes sparkled and their cheeks glowed with exercise andexcitement. Some of the more prudent parents, mindful of the nextday's duties, began to consider at what hour they ought to go home;but with all there was an expressed or unexpressed curiosity tosee the duchess and her diamonds; for the Menteith diamonds werefamous in higher circles than that now assembled; and their famehad trickled down to it through the medium of ladies'-maids andhousekeepers. Mr. Gibson had had to leave the ball-room for a time,as he had anticipated, but he was to return to his wife as soon ashis duties were accomplished; and, in his absence, Mrs. Gibson keptherself a little aloof from the Miss Brownings and those of heracquaintance who would willingly have entered into conversation withher, with the view of attaching herself to the skirts of the Towers'party, when they should make their appearance. If Cynthia would notbe so very ready in engaging herself to every possible partner whoasked her to dance, there were sure to be young men staying at theTowers who would be on the look-out for pretty girls: and who couldtell to what a dance might lead? Molly, too, though not so good adancer as Cynthia, and, from her timidity, less graceful and easy,was becoming engaged pretty deeply; and, it must be confessed,she was longing to dance every dance, no matter with whom. Evenshe might not be available for the more aristocratic partners Mrs.Gibson anticipated. She was feeling very much annoyed with the wholeproceedings of the evening when she was aware of some one standing byher; and, turning a little to one side, she saw Mr. Preston keepingguard, as it were, over the seats which Molly and Cynthia had justquitted. He was looking so black that, if their eyes had not met,Mrs. Gibson would have preferred not speaking to him; as it was, shethought it unavoidable.

  "The rooms are not well-lighted to-night, are they, Mr. Preston?"

  "No," said he; "but who could light such dingy old paint as this,loaded with evergreens, too, which always darken a room?"

  "And the company, too! I always think that freshness and brilliancyof dress go as far as anything to brighten up a room. Look what a setof people are here: the greater part of the women are dressed indark silks, really only fit for a morning. The place will be quitedifferent, by-and-by, when the county families are in a little moreforce."

  Mr. Preston made no reply. He had put his glass in his eye,apparently for the purpose of watching the dancers. If its exactdirection could have been ascertained, it would have been foundthat he was looking intently and angrily at a flying figure in pinkmuslin: many a one was gazing at Cynthia with intentness besideshimself, but no one in anger. Mrs. Gibson was not so fine an observeras to read all this; but here was a gentlemanly and handsome youngman, to whom she could prattle, instead of either joining herself onto objectionable people, or sitting all forlorn until the Towers'party came. So she went on with her small remarks.

  "You are not dancing, Mr. Preston!"

  "No! The partner I had engaged has made some mistake. I am waiting tohave an explanation with her."

  Mrs. Gibson was silent. An uncomfortable tide of recollectionsappeared to come over her; she, like Mr. Preston, watched Cynthia;the dance was ended, and she was walking round the room in easyunconcern as to what might await her. Presently her partner, Mr.Harry Cholmley, brought her back to her seat. She took that vacantnext to Mr. Preston, leaving the one by her mother for Molly'soccupation. The latter returned a moment afterwards to her place.Cynthia seemed entirely unconscious of Mr. Preston's neighbourhood.Mrs. Gibson leaned forwards, and said to her daughter,--

  "Your last partner was a gentleman, my dear. You are improving inyour selection. I really was ashamed of you before, figuring awaywith that attorney's clerk. Molly, do you know whom you have beendancing with? I have found out he is the Coreham bookseller."

  "That accounts for his being so well up in all the books I've beenwanting to hear about," said Molly, eagerly, but with a spice ofmalice in her mind. "He really was very pleasant, mamma," she added;"and he looks quite a gentleman, and dances beautifully!"

  "Very well. But remember if you go on this way you will have to shakehands over the counter to-morrow morning with some of your partnersof to-night," said Mrs. Gibson, coldly.

  "But I really don't know how to refuse when people are introducedto me and ask me, and I am longing to dance. You know to-night itis a charity ball, and papa said everybody danced with everybody,"said Molly, in a pleading tone of voice; for she could not quitethoroughly enjoy herself if she was out of harmony with any one.What reply Mrs. Gibson would have made to this speech cannot nowbe ascertained; for, before she could answer, Mr. Preston steppeda little forwards, and said, in a tone which he meant to be icilyindifferent, but which trembled with anger,--

  "If Miss Gibson finds any difficulty in refusing a partner, she hasonly to apply to Miss Kirkpatrick for instructions."

  Cynthia lifted up her beautiful eyes, and, fixing them on Mr.Preston's face, said, very quietly, as if only stating a matter offact,--


  "You forget, I think, Mr. Preston: Miss Gibson implied that shewished to dance with the person who asked her--that makes all thedifference. I can't instruct her how to act in that difficulty."

  And to the rest of this little conversation, Cynthia appeared to lendno ear; and she was almost directly claimed by her next partner. Mr.Preston took the seat now left empty much to Molly's annoyance. Atfirst she feared lest he might be going to ask her to dance; but,instead, he put out his hand for Cynthia's nosegay, which she hadleft on rising, entrusted to Molly. It had suffered considerably fromthe heat of the room, and was no longer full and fresh; not so muchso as Molly's, which had not, in the first instance, been pulled topieces in picking out the scarlet flowers which now adorned Molly'shair, and which had since been cherished with more care. Enough,however, remained of Cynthia's to show very distinctly that it wasnot the one Mr. Preston had sent; and it was perhaps to convincehimself of this, that he rudely asked to examine it. But Molly,faithful to what she imagined would be Cynthia's wish, refused toallow him to touch it; she only held it a little nearer.

  "Miss Kirkpatrick has not done me the honour of wearing the bouquetI sent her, I see. She received it, I suppose, and my note?"

  "Yes," said Molly, rather intimidated by the tone in which this wassaid. "But we had already accepted these two nosegays."

  Mrs. Gibson was just the person to come to the rescue with herhoneyed words on such an occasion as the present. She evidently wasrather afraid of Mr. Preston, and wished to keep at peace with him.

  "Oh, yes, we were so sorry! Of course, I don't mean to say we couldbe sorry for any one's kindness; but two such lovely nosegays hadbeen sent from Hamley Hall--you may see how beautiful from what Mollyholds in her hand--and they had come before yours, Mr. Preston."

  "I should have felt honoured if you had accepted of mine, sincethe young ladies were so well provided for. I was at some pains inselecting the flowers at Green's; I think I may say it was rathermore recherche than that of Miss Kirkpatrick's, which Miss Gibsonholds so tenderly and securely in her hand."

  "Oh, because Cynthia would take out the most effective flowers to putin my hair!" exclaimed Molly, eagerly.

  "Did she?" said Mr. Preston, with a certain accent of pleasure in hisvoice, as though he were glad she set so little store by the nosegay;and he walked off to stand behind Cynthia in the quadrille that wasbeing danced; and Molly saw him making her reply to him--against herwill, Molly was sure. But, somehow, his face and manner implied powerover her. She looked grave, deaf, indifferent, indignant, defiant;but, after a half-whispered speech to Cynthia, at the conclusionof the dance, she evidently threw him an impatient consent to whathe was asking, for he walked off with a disagreeable smile ofsatisfaction on his handsome face.

  All this time the murmurs were spreading at the lateness of the partyfrom the Towers, and person after person came up to Mrs. Gibson asif she were the accredited authority as to the earl and countess'splans. In one sense this was flattering; but then the acknowledgmentof common ignorance and wonder reduced her to the level of theinquirers. Mrs. Goodenough felt herself particularly aggrieved; shehad had her spectacles on for the last hour and a half, in order tobe ready for the sight the very first minute any one from the Towersappeared at the door.

  "I had a headache," she complained, "and I should have sent my money,and never stirred out o' doors to-night; for I've seen a many ofthese here balls, and my lord and my lady too, when they were betterworth looking at nor they are now; but every one was talking of theduchess, and the duchess and her diamonds, and I thought I shouldn'tlike to be behindhand, and never ha' seen neither the duchess norher diamonds; so I'm here, and coal and candle-light wasting awayat home, for I told Sally to sit up for me; and, above everything,I cannot abide waste. I took it from my mother, who was such a oneagainst waste as you never see now-a-days. She was a manager, ifever there was a one; and brought up nine children on less thanany one else could do, I'll be bound. Why! she wouldn't let us beextravagant--not even in the matter of colds. Whenever any on us hadgot a pretty bad cold, she took the opportunity and cut our hair; forshe said, said she, it was of no use having two colds when one woulddo--and cutting of our hair was sure to give us a cold. But, for allthat, I wish the duchess would come."

  "Ah! but fancy what it is to me," sighed out Mrs. Gibson "so long asI have been without seeing the dear family--and seeing so little ofthem the other day when I was at the Towers (for the duchess wouldhave my opinion on Lady Alice's trousseau, and kept asking me so manyquestions it took up all the time)--and Lady Harriet's last wordswere a happy anticipation of our meeting to-night. It's nearly twelveo'clock."

  Every one of any pretensions to gentility was painfully affected bythe absence of the family from the Towers; the very fiddlers seemedunwilling to begin playing a dance that might be interrupted by theentrance of the great folks. Miss Phoebe Browning had apologizedfor them--Miss Browning had blamed them with calm dignity; it wasonly the butchers and bakers and candlestick-makers who ratherenjoyed the absence of restraint, and were happy and hilarious.

  At last, there was a rumbling, and a rushing, and a whispering, andthe music stopped; so the dancers were obliged to do so too; and incame Lord Cumnor in his state dress, with a fat, middle-aged womanon his arm; she was dressed almost like a girl--in a sprigged muslin,with natural flowers in her hair, but not a vestige of a jewel or adiamond. Yet it must be the duchess; but what was a duchess withoutdiamonds?--and in a dress which farmer Hudson's daughter might haveworn! Was it the duchess? Could it be the duchess? The little crowdof inquirers around Mrs. Gibson thickened, to hear her confirm theirdisappointing surmise. After the duchess came Lady Cumnor, lookinglike Lady Macbeth in black velvet--a cloud upon her brow, made moreconspicuous by the lines of age rapidly gathering on her handsomeface; and Lady Harriet, and other ladies, amongst whom there was onedressed so like the duchess as to suggest the idea of a sister ratherthan a daughter, as far as dress went. There was Lord Hollingford,plain in face, awkward in person, gentlemanly in manner; andhalf-a-dozen younger men, Lord Albert Monson, Captain James, andothers of their age and standing, who came in looking anything if notcritical. This long-expected party swept up to the seats reservedfor them at the head of the room, apparently regardless of theinterruption they caused; for the dancers stood aside, and almostdispersed back to their seats, and when "Money-musk" struck up again,not half the former set of people stood up to finish the dance.

  Lady Harriet, who was rather different to Miss Piper, and no moreminded crossing the room alone than if the lookers-on were so manycabbages, spied the Gibson party pretty quickly out, and came acrossto them.

  "Here we are at last. How d'ye do, dear? Why, little one" (to Molly),"how nice you're looking! Aren't we shamefully late?"

  "Oh! it's only just past twelve," said Mrs. Gibson "and I daresayyou dined very late."

  "It wasn't that; it was that ill-mannered woman, who went to her ownroom after we came out from dinner, and she and Lady Alice stayedthere invisible, till we thought they were putting on some splendidattire--as they ought to have done--and at half-past ten, when mammasent up to them to say the carriages were at the door, the duchesssent down for some beef-tea, and at last appeared _a l'enfant_ asyou see her. Mamma is so angry with her, and some of the others areannoyed at not coming earlier, and one or two are giving themselvesairs about coming at all. Papa is the only one who is not affected byit." Then turning to Molly Lady Harriet asked,--

  "Have you been dancing much, Miss Gibson?"

  "Yes; not every dance, but nearly all."

  It was a simple question enough; but Lady Harriet's speaking at allto Molly had become to Mrs. Gibson almost like shaking a red rag ata bull; it was the one thing sure to put her out of temper. But shewould not have shown this to Lady Harriet for the world; only shecontrived to baffle any endeavours at further conversation betweenthe two, by placing herself betwixt Lady Harriet and Molly, whom theformer asked to sit down in the absent Cynthia's room.

/>   "I won't go back to those people, I am so mad with them; and,besides, I hardly saw you the other day, and I must have some gossipwith you." So she sat down by Mrs. Gibson, and as Mrs. Goodenoughafterwards expressed it, "looked like anybody else." Mrs. Goodenoughsaid this to excuse herself for a little misadventure she fell into.She had taken a deliberate survey of the grandees at the upper end ofthe room, spectacles on nose, and had inquired, in no very measuredvoice, who everybody was, from Mr. Sheepshanks, my lord's agent, andher very good neighbour, who in vain tried to check her loud ardourfor information by replying to her in whispers. But she was ratherdeaf as well as blind, so his low tones only brought upon him freshinquiries. Now, satisfied as far as she could be, and on her wayto departure, and the extinguishing of fire and candle-light, shestopped opposite to Mrs. Gibson, and thus addressed her by way ofrenewal of their former subject of conversation:--

  "Such a shabby thing for a duchess I never saw; not a bit of adiamond near her! They're none of 'em worth looking at except thecountess, and she's always a personable woman, and not so lustyas she was. But they're not worth waiting up for till this time o'night."

  There was a moment's pause. Then Lady Harriet put her hand out, andsaid,--

  "You don't remember me, but I know you from having seen you at theTowers. Lady Cumnor is a good deal thinner than she was, but we hopeher health is better for it."

  "It's Lady Harriet," said Mrs. Gibson to Mrs. Goodenough, inreproachful dismay.

  "Deary me, your ladyship! I hope I've given no offence! But, yousee--that is to say, your ladyship sees, that it's late hours forsuch folks as me, and I only stayed out of my bed to see the duchess,and I thought she'd come in diamonds and a coronet; and it puts oneout at my age, to be disappointed in the only chance I'm like to haveof so fine a sight."

  "I'm put out too," said Lady Harriet. "I wanted to have come early,and here we are as late as this. I'm so cross and ill-tempered, Ishould be glad to hide myself in bed as soon as you will do."

  She said this so sweetly that Mrs. Goodenough relaxed into a smile,and her crabbedness into a compliment.

  "I don't believe as ever your ladyship can be cross and ill-temperedwith that pretty face. I'm an old woman, so you must let me say so."Lady Harriet stood up, and made a low curtsey. Then holding out herhand, she said,--

  "I won't keep you up any longer; but I'll promise one thing in returnfor your pretty speech: if ever I am a duchess, I'll come and showmyself to you in all my robes and gewgaws. Good night, madam!"

  "There! I knew how it would be!" said she, not resuming her seat."And on the eve of a county election too."

  "Oh! you must not take old Mrs. Goodenough as a specimen, dear LadyHarriet. She is always a grumbler! I am sure no one else wouldcomplain of your all being as late as you liked," said Mrs. Gibson.

  "What do you say, Molly?" said Lady Harriet, suddenly turning hereyes on Molly's face. "Don't you think we've lost some of ourpopularity,--which at this time means votes--by coming so late. Come,answer me! you used to be a famous little truth-teller."

  "I don't know about popularity or votes," said Molly, ratherunwillingly. "But I think many people were sorry you did not comesooner; and isn't that rather a proof of popularity?" she added.

  "That's a very neat and diplomatic answer," said Lady Harriet,smiling, and tapping Molly's cheek with her fan.

  "Molly knows nothing about it," said Mrs. Gibson, a little offher guard. "It would be very impertinent if she or any one elsequestioned Lady Cumnor's perfect right to come when she chose."

  "Well, all I know is, I must go back to mamma now; but I shall makeanother raid into these regions by-and-by, and you must keep a placefor me. Ah! there are--Miss Brownings; you see I don't forget mylesson, Miss Gibson."

  "Molly, I cannot have you speaking so to Lady Harriet," said Mrs.Gibson, as soon as she was left alone with her stepdaughter. "Youwould never have known her at all if it had not been for me, anddon't be always putting yourself into our conversation."

  "But I must speak if she asks me questions," pleaded Molly.

  "Well! if you must, you must, I acknowledge. I'm candid about that atany rate. But there's no need for you to set up to have an opinion atyour age."

  "I don't know how to help it," said Molly.

  "She's such a whimsical person look there, if she's not talking toMiss Phoebe; and Miss Phoebe is so weak she'll be easily led awayinto fancying she is hand and glove with Lady Harriet. If there isone thing I hate more than another, it is the trying to make out anintimacy with great people."

  Molly felt innocent enough, so she offered no justification ofherself, and made no reply. Indeed she was more occupied in watchingCynthia. She could not understand the change that seemed to have comeover her. She was dancing, it was true, with the same lightness andgrace as before, but the smooth bounding motion, as of a featherblown onwards by the wind, was gone. She was conversing with herpartner, but without the soft animation that usually shone out uponher countenance. And when she was brought back to her seat Mollynoticed her changed colour, and her dreamily abstracted eyes.

  "What is the matter, Cynthia?" asked she, in a very low voice.

  "Nothing," said Cynthia, suddenly looking up, and in an accent ofwhat, in her, was sharpness. "Why should there be?"

  "I don't know; but you look different to what you did--tired orsomething."

  "There's nothing the matter, or, if there is, don't talk about it.It's all your fancy."

  This was a rather contradictory speech, to be interpreted byintuition rather than by logic. Molly understood that Cynthia wishedfor quietness and silence. But what was her surprise, after thespeeches that had passed before, and the implication of Cynthia'swhole manner to Mr. Preston, to see him come up to her, and, withouta word, offer his arm and lead her away to dance. It appeared tostrike Mrs. Gibson as something remarkable; for, forgetting her latepassage at arms with Molly, she asked, wonderingly, as if almostdistrusting the evidence of her senses,--

  "Is Cynthia going to dance with Mr. Preston?"

  Molly had scarcely time to answer before she herself was led off byher partner. She could hardly attend to him or to the figures of thequadrille for watching for Cynthia among the moving forms.

  Once she caught a glimpse of her standing still--downcast--listeningto Mr. Preston's eager speech. Again she was walking languidly amongthe dancers, almost as if she took no notice of those around her.When she and Molly joined each other again, the shade on Cynthia'sface had deepened to gloom. But, at the same time, if a physiognomisthad studied her expression, he would have read in it defiance andanger, and perhaps also a little perplexity. While this quadrille hadbeen going on, Lady Harriet had been speaking to her brother.

  "Hollingford!" she said, laying her hand on his arm, and drawing hima little apart from the well-born crowd amid which he stood, silentand abstracted, "you don't know how these good people here have beenhurt and disappointed with our being so late, and with the duchess'sridiculous simplicity of dress."

  "Why should they mind it?" asked he, taking advantage of her beingout of breath with eagerness.

  "Oh, don't be so wise and stupid; don't you see, we're a show and aspectacle--it's like having a pantomime with harlequin and columbinein plain clothes."

  "I don't understand how--" he began.

  "Then take it upon trust. They really are a little disappointed,whether they are logical or not in being so, and we must try and makeit up to them; for one thing, because I can't bear our vassals tolook dissatisfied and disloyal, and then there's the election inJune."

  "I really would as soon be out of the House as in it."

  "Nonsense; it would grieve papa beyond measure--but there's notime to talk about that now. You must go and dance with some ofthe townspeople, and I'll ask Sheepshanks to introduce me to arespectable young farmer. Can't you get Captain James to make himselfuseful? There he goes with Lady Alice! If I don't get him introducedto the ugliest tailor's daughter I can find for the next dance!" Sheput her arm in
her brother's as she spoke, as if to lead him to somepartner. He resisted, however--resisted piteously.

  "Pray don't, Harriet. You know I can't dance. I hate it; I alwaysdid. I don't know how to get through a quadrille."

  "It's a country dance!" said she, resolutely.

  "It's all the same. And what shall I say to my partner? I haven'ta notion: I shall have no subject in common. Speak of beingdisappointed, they'll be ten times more disappointed when they find Ican neither dance nor talk!"

  "I'll be merciful; don't be so cowardly. In their eyes a lord maydance like a bear--as some lords not very far from me are--if helikes, and they'll take it for grace. And you shall begin with MollyGibson, your friend the doctor's daughter. She's a good, simple,intelligent little girl, which you'll think a great deal more of, Isuppose, than of the frivolous fact of her being very pretty. Clare!will you allow me to introduce my brother to Miss Gibson? he hopes toengage her for this dance. Lord Hollingford, Miss Gibson!"

  Poor Lord Hollingford! there was nothing for it but for him to followhis sister's very explicit lead, and Molly and he walked off to theirplaces, each heartily wishing their dance together well over. LadyHarriet flew off to Mr. Sheepshanks to secure her respectable youngfarmer, and Mrs. Gibson remained alone, wishing that Lady Cumnorwould send one of her attendant gentlemen for her. It would be somuch more agreeable to be sitting even at the fag-end of nobilitythan here on a bench with everybody; hoping that everybody would seeMolly dancing away with a lord, yet vexed that the chance had sobefallen that Molly instead of Cynthia was the young lady singledout; wondering if simplicity of dress was now become the highestfashion, and pondering on the possibility of cleverly inducingLady Harriet to introduce Lord Albert Monson to her own beautifuldaughter, Cynthia.

  Molly found Lord Hollingford, the wise and learned Lord Hollingford,strangely stupid in understanding the mystery of "Cross hands andback again, down the middle and up again." He was constantly gettinghold of the wrong hands, and as constantly stopping when he hadreturned to his place, quite unaware that the duties of society andthe laws of the dance required that he should go on capering tillhe had arrived at the bottom of the room. He perceived that he hadperformed his part very badly, and apologized to Molly when once theyhad arrived at that haven of comparative peace; and he expressed hisregret so simply and heartily that she felt at her ease with him atonce, especially when he confided to her his reluctance at having todance at all, and his only doing it under his sister's compulsion.To Molly he was an elderly widower, almost as old as her father,and by-and-by they got into very pleasant conversation. She learntfrom him that Roger Hamley had just been publishing a paper in somescientific periodical, which had excited considerable attention,as it was intended to confute some theory of a great Frenchphysiologist, and Roger's article proved the writer to be possessedof a most unusual amount of knowledge on the subject. This pieceof news was of great interest to Molly; and, in her questions, sheherself evinced so much intelligence, and a mind so well prepared forthe reception of information, that Lord Hollingford at any rate wouldhave felt his quest of popularity a very easy affair indeed, if hemight have gone on talking quietly to Molly during the rest of theevening. When he took her back to her place, he found Mr. Gibsonthere, and fell into talk with him, until Lady Harriet once more cameto stir him up to his duties. Before very long, however, he returnedto Mr. Gibson's side, and began telling him of this paper of RogerHamley's, of which Mr. Gibson had not yet heard. In the midstof their conversation, as they stood close by Mrs. Gibson, LordHollingford saw Molly in the distance, and interrupted himself tosay, "What a charming little lady that daughter of yours is! Mostgirls of her age are so difficult to talk to; but she is intelligentand full of interest in all sorts of sensible things; well read,too--she was up in _Le Regne Animal_--and very pretty!"

  Mr. Gibson bowed, much pleased at such a compliment from such a man,were he lord or not. It is very likely that if Molly had been astupid listener, Lord Hollingford would not have discovered herbeauty; or the converse might be asserted--if she had not been youngand pretty, he would not have exerted himself to talk on scientificsubjects in a manner which she could understand. But in whatever wayMolly had won his approbation and admiration, there was no doubt thatshe had earned it somehow. And, when she next returned to her place,Mrs. Gibson greeted her with soft words and a gracious smile; forit does not require much reasoning power to discover, that if itis a very fine thing to be mother-in-law to a very magnificentthree-tailed bashaw, it presupposes that the wife who makes theconnection between the two parties is in harmony with her mother. Andso far had Mrs. Gibson's thoughts wandered into futurity. She onlywished that the happy chance had fallen to Cynthia's instead of toMolly's lot. But Molly was a docile, sweet creature, very pretty,and remarkably intelligent, as my lord had said. It was a pity thatCynthia preferred making millinery to reading; but perhaps that couldbe rectified. And there was Lord Cumnor coming to speak to her, andLady Cumnor nodding to her, and indicating a place by her side.

  It was not an unsatisfactory ball upon the whole to Mrs. Gibson,although she paid the usual penalty for sitting up beyond herordinary hour in perpetual glare and movement. The next morningshe awoke irritable and fatigued; and a little of the same feelingoppressed both Cynthia and Molly. The former was lounging in thewindow-seat, holding a three-days'-old newspaper in her hand, whichshe was making a pretence of reading, when she was startled by hermother's saying,--

  "Cynthia! can't you take up a book and improve yourself? I am sureyour conversation will never be worth listening to, unless you readsomething better than newspapers. Why don't you keep up your French?There was some French book that Molly was reading--_Le Regne Animal_,I think."

  "No! I never read it!" said Molly, blushing. "Mr. Roger Hamleysometimes read pieces out of it when I was first at the Hall, andtold me what it was about."

  "Oh! well. Then I suppose I was mistaken. But it comes to all thesame thing. Cynthia, you really must learn to settle yourself to someimproving reading every morning."

  Rather to Molly's surprise, Cynthia did not reply a word; butdutifully went and brought down from among her Boulogne school-books,_Le Siecle de Louis XIV_. But after a while, Molly saw that this"improving reading" was just as much a mere excuse for Cynthia'sthinking her own thoughts as the newspaper had been.