CHAPTER IX.
THE FIRST BALL.
Il est amiable, car on se sent toujours en danger avec lui.
Before Maud had been many weeks with the Vernons there was a GarrisonBall, and at this it was fated that she should make her first publicappearance in Dustypore society. That night was certainly the mosteventful and exciting one that she had ever passed. To wake and findone's self famous is no doubt an agreeable sensation; but to put on forthe first time in one's life a lovely ball-dress, bright, cloudlike,ambrosial--to be suddenly elevated to a pinnacle to receive the homageof mankind--to exercise a pleasant little capricious tyranny in theselection of partners--to be seized upon by one anxious adorer afteranother, all striving to please, each with a little flattering tale ofhis own--to read in a hundred eyes that one is very pretty--to find atlast a partner who, from some mysterious reason, is not like otherpartners, but just perfection--to know that one's views about him areentirely reciprocated--it was, as Maud, on going to bed, acknowledged toherself with a sigh, which was half fatigue and half the utterance of anover-excited temperament, too much enjoyment for a single human soul tocarry!
In the first place, Sutton, all ablaze with medals, tall, majestic,impressive, and as Maud had come to think with Felicia, undeniablyhandsome, had begged her in the morning to keep several dances for him.The prospect of this among other things had put her in a flutter. Shewould have preferred some of the ensigns. It seemed a sort of alarmingfamiliarity. Could such a being valse and bend, as ordinary mortals do,to the commonplace movements of a mere quadrille? It was one thing to gospinning round with another school-girl, under the superintendence ofMadame Millville, to the accompaniment of her husband's violin: but tobe taken possession of by a being like Sutton--to have to write his namedown for two valses and a set of Lancers--to know that in five minutesone will be whirling about under his guidance--the idea was delightful,but not without a touch of awe! Sutton, however, quieted these alarms bydancing in a rather ponderous and old-fashioned manner, and finallytearing her dress with his spur. Maud had accordingly to be carried off,in order that the damage might be repaired; and--her mind somewhatlightened by the sense of responsibility discharged and the icesatisfactorily broken--looked forward to the rest of the evening withummingled pleasure. While her torn dress was being set to rights shescanned her card, saw Sutton's name duly registered for his promiseddances, and made up her mind, as she compared him with the rest, thatthere was no one in the room she liked one-half as well.
But then she had not danced with Desvoeux; and Desvoeux was now waitingat the door and imploring her not to curtail the rapture of a valse, thefirst notes of which had already sounded. Desvoeux's dancing, Maudspeedily acknowledged to herself, bore about the same relation toSutton's that her Arab pony's canter did to the imposing movements ofthe latter gentleman's first charger. His tongue, too, seemed as nimbleas his feet. He was in the highest possible spirits, and the careless,joyous extravagance of his talk struck a sympathetic chord in hiscompanion's nature.
'There!' he cried, as the last notes of the music died away and hebrought his companion to a standstill at a comfortable sofa, 'Such avalse as that is a joy for ever--a thing to dream of, is it not? Someladies, you know, Miss Vernon, dance in epic poems, some in the sternestprose--Carlyle, for instance--some in sweet-flowing, undulating,rippling lyrics: Yours is (what shall I say?) an ode of Shelley's or asong from Tennyson, a smile from Paradise! Where can you have learntit?'
'Monsieur Millville taught us all at my school,' said Maud, prosaicallymindful of the many battles she had had in former days with thatgentleman: 'a horrid little wizened Frenchman, with a fiddle. We allhated him. He was always going on at me about my toes.'
'Your toes!' cried Desvoeux, with effusion: 'He wanted to adore them, asI do--sweet points where all the concentrated poetry of your beinggathers. Put out that fairy little satin shoe and let me adore themtoo!'
'No, thank you!' cried Maud, greatly taken aback at so unexpected arequest, gathering her feet instinctively beneath her; 'it's not thefashion!'
'You will not?' Desvoeux said, with a tone of sincere disappointment.'Is not that unkind? Suppose it was the fashion to cover up your handsin tulle and satin and never to show them?'
'Then,' Maud said, laughing, 'you would not be able to adore themeither; as it is, you see, you may worship them as much as you please!'
'I have been worshipping them all the evening. They are lovely--a littlepair of sprites.'
'Stop!' cried Maud, 'and let me see. My shoes are fairies, and mydancing a poem, and my fingers sprites! How very poetical! And, pray, isthis the sort of way that people always talk at balls?'
'Not most people,' said Desvoeux, unabashed, 'because they are geese andtalk in grooves--about the weather and the last appointment and thefreshest bit of stale gossip; but it is the way _I_ talk, because I onlysay what I feel and am perfectly natural.'
'Natural!' said Maud, in a tone of some surprise, for her companion'sromantic extravagance seemed to her to be the very climax of unreality.
'Yes,' said Desvoeux, coolly, 'and that is one reason why all women likeme; partly it is for my good looks, of course, and partly for mydancing, but mostly because I am natural and tell the truth to them.'
'And partly, I suppose,' said Maud, who began to think her companion wasin great need of setting down, 'because you are so modest?'
'As to that, I am just as modest as my neighbours, only I speak out. Oneknows when one is good-looking, does one not? and why pretend to be asimpleton? You know, for instance, how very, very pretty you are lookingto-night!'
'We were talking about _you_, if you please,' said Maud, blushingscarlet, and conscious of a truth of which her mirror had informed her.
'Agreeable topic,' said the other gaily; 'let us return to it by allmeans! Well, now, I pique myself on being natural. When I am bored Iyawn or go away; when I dislike people I show my teeth and snarl; andwhen I lose my heart I don't suffer in silence, but inform the fairpurloiner of that valuable organ of the theft without hesitation. Thatis honest, at any rate. For instance, I pressed your hand to-night, whenyou came in first, to tell you how delighted I was that you were come tobe the belle of the party. You did not mind it, you know!'
'I thought you very impertinent,' said Maud, laughing in spite ofherself; 'and so I think you now, and very conceited into the bargain.Will you take me to have some tea, please?'
'With all my heart,' said the other; 'but we can go on with our talk.How nice it is that we are such friends, is it not?'
'I did not know that we were friends,' said Maud, 'and I have not evenmade up my mind if I like you.'
'Hypocrite!' answered her companion; 'you know you took a great fancy tome the first morning I came to call on you, and Mrs. Vernon scolded youfor it after my departure.'
'It is not true,' said Maud, with a stammer and a blush, for Desvoeux'sshot was, unfortunately, near the mark; 'and anyhow, first impressionsare generally wrong.'
'Wrong!' cried the other, 'never, never! always infallible. Mrs. Vernonabused me directly I was gone. She always does; it is her one fault,that prevents her from being absolute perfection. She does not like me,and is always putting me down. It is a great shame, because she has beentill now the one lady in India whom I really admire. But let usestablish ourselves on this nice ottoman, and I will show you some ofour celebrities. Look at that handsome couple talking so mysteriously onthe sofa: that is General Beau and Mrs. Vereker, and they are talkingabout nothing more mysterious than the weather; but it is the General'sfancy to look mysterious. Do you see how he is shrugging his shoulders?Well, to that shrug he owes everything in life. Whatever happens, heeither shrugs his shoulders, or arches his eyebrows, or says "Ah!"Beyond these utterances he never goes; but he knows exactly when to doeach, and does it so judiciously that he has become a great man. He isgreat at nothing, however, but flirtation; and Mrs. Vereker is just nowthe reigning deity.'
'No wonder,' cried Maud. 'How lovely she is! s
uch beautiful violeteyes!'
'Yes,' said the other, with a most pathetic air, 'most dangerous eyesthey are, I assure you. You don't feel it, not being a man, but they gothrough and through me. She always has a numerous following, especiallyof boys, and has broken a host of hearts, which is all the more unfair,as she does not happen to possess one of her own.'
'She must have a heart, with those eyes and such a smile,' objectedMaud.
'Not the least atom, I assure you,' said the other. 'Nature, inlavishing every other grace and charm upon her, made this singleomission, much, no doubt, to the lady's own peace of mind. It is allright in the present instance, because Beau does not happen to have anyheart either.'
'I don't believe you in the least,' said Maud, 'and I shall get mycousin to take me to call upon her.'
'You are fascinated, you see, already,' said Desvoeux, 'though you are awoman. You will find her a perfect Circe. Her drawing-room is anenchanted cell hung round with votive offerings from former victims. Shelives on the gifts of worshippers, and will accept everything, from asealskin jacket to a pair of gloves. I used to be an adorer once, but Icould not afford it. Now I will introduce you.' Thereupon he presentedMaud in due form.
General Beau arched his handsome brow, and said, 'Ah! how dy'e do, MissVernon?' in his inscrutable way; and Mrs. Vereker, who, as a reigningbeauty, felt an especial interest in one who seemed likely to endangerher ascendency, was bent on being polite. She gave Maud the sweetest ofsmiles, scolded Desvoeux with the prettiest little pout for not havingbeen to see her for an age; and, if she felt jealous, was determined, atany rate, not to show it. She observed, however, with the eye of aconnoisseur, how Maud's hair was done, and took a mental note of alittle mystery of lace and feathers, just then the fashionablehead-dress, which she thought would be immensely becoming to herself.She pressed Maud affectionately to come some day to lunch and inwardlyresolved to spoil the pretty _ingenue_ of her novelty.
Mrs. Vereker was a type of character which Indian life brings intoespecial prominence and develops into fuller perfection than is to befound in less artificial communities. Herself the child of Indianparents, whom she had scarcely ever seen, with the slenderest possiblestock of home associations, accustomed from the outset to have to lookout for herself, she had come to India while still almost a child, andin a few months, long before thought or feeling had approachedmaturity, had found herself the belle of a Station, and presently abride. Then circumstances separated her frequently from her husband, andshe learnt to bear separation heroically. The sweet incense of flatterywas for ever rising about her, and she learnt to love it better everyday. Any number of men were for ever ready to throw themselves at herfeet and proclaim her adorable, and she came to feel it right that theyshould do so. She found that she could conjure with her eyes and mouthand exercise a little despotism by simply using them as Nature told her.The coldness of her heart enabled her to venture with impunity intodangers where an ardent temperament could scarcely but have gone astray:she, however, was content so long as she lived in a stream of flatteryand half-a-dozen men declared themselves heartbroken about her; strictpeople called her a flirt, but friends and foes alike declared herinnocence itself.
Beau was devoting himself to her partly because her good looks gave hima slight sense of gratification, partly because he considered it theproper thing to be seen on confidential terms with the handsomest womanin the room, partly to have the pleasure of holding his own against theyounger men.
Desvoeux, delighted with his new-found treasure, was only too happy toleave a quondam rival in possession of the field, and to have a decentexcuse for abandoning a shrine at which it was no longer convenient toworship.