“Pray wait a minute or two,” said she, almost panting.
“Oh, certainly. There’s no hurry, only we’ll stand where we can get our place when we like it. You need not be a bit afraid of going on with me. Patty has told me all about it, and we’ll make it right in a brace of turns.” There was something very good-natured in his voice, and she almost felt that she could ask him to let her sit down.
“I don’t think I can,” she said.
“Oh yes; come, we’ll try!” Then he took her by the waist, and away they went. Twice round the room he took her, very gently, as he thought; but her head had gone from her instantly in a whirl of amazement! Of her feet and their movements she had known nothing; though she had followed the music with fair accuracy, she had done so unconsciously, and when he allowed her to stop she did not know which way she had been going, or at which end of the room she stood. And yet she had liked it, and felt some little triumph as a conviction came upon her that she had not conspicuously disgraced herself.
“That’s charming,” said he. She essayed to speak a word in answer, but her want of breath did not as yet permit it.
“Charming!” he went on. “The music’s perhaps a little slow, but we’ll hurry them up presently.” Slow! It seemed to her that she had been carried round in a vortex, of which the rapidity, though pleasant, had been almost frightful. “Come; we’ll have another start,” said he; and she was carried away again before she had spoken a word. “I’d no idea that girl could waltz,” said Mrs. Tappitt to old Mrs. Rule. “I don’t think her mother would like it if she saw it,” said Mrs. Rule. “And what would Mrs. Prime say?” said Mrs. Tappitt. However the ice was broken, and Rachel, when she was given to understand that that dance was done, felt herself to be aware that the world of waltzing was open to her, at any rate for that night. Was it very wicked? She had her doubts. If anybody had suggested to her, before Mrs. Cornbury’s carriage had called for her, that she would waltz on that evening, she would have repudiated the idea almost with horror. How easy is the path down the shores of the Avernus! but then—was she going down the shores of the Avernus?
She was still walking through the crowd, leaning on her partner’s arm, and answering his good-natured questions almost in monosyllables, when she was gently touched on the arm by a fan, and on turning found herself confronted by Luke Rowan and his sister. “I’ve been trying to get at you so long,” said he, making some sort of half apology to Cornbury, “and haven’t been able; though once I very nearly danced you down without your knowing it.”
“We’re so much obliged to you for letting us escape,” said Cornbury; “are we not, Miss Ray?”
“We carried heavy metal, I can tell you,” said Rowan. “But I must introduce you to my sister. Where on earth have you been for these ten days?” Then the introduction was made, and young Cornbury, finding that his partner was in the hands of another lady, slipped away.
“I have heard a great deal about you, Miss Ray,” said Mary Rowan.
“Have you? I don’t know who should say much about me.” The words sounded uncivil, but she did not know what words to choose.
“Oh, from Cherry especially;—and—and from my brother.”
“I’m very glad to make your acquaintance,” said Rachel.
“He told me that you would have been sure to come and walk with us, and we have all been saying that you had disappeared.”
“I have been kept at home,” said Rachel, who could not help remembering all the words of the churchyard interview, and feeling them down to her finger nails. He must have known why she had not again joined the girls from the brewery in their walks. Or had he forgotten that he had called her Rachel, and held her fast by the hand? Perhaps he did these things so often to other girls that he thought nothing of them!
“You have been keeping yourself up for the ball,” said Rowan. “Precious people are right to make themselves scarce. And now what vacancies have you got for me?”
“Vacancies!” said Rachel.
“You don’t mean to say you’ve got none. Look here, I’ve kept all these on purpose for you, although twenty girls have begged me to dispose of them in their favour.”
“Oh, Luke, how can you tell such fibs?” said his sister.
“Well;—here they are,” and he showed his card.
“I’m not engaged to anybody,” said Rachel; “except for one quadrille to Mr. Cornbury—that gentleman who just went away.”
“Then you’ve no excuse for not filling up my vacancies—kept on purpose for you, mind.” And immediately her name was put down for she knew not what dances. Then he took her card and scrawled his own name on it in various places. She knew that she was weak to let him thus have his way in everything; but he was strong and she could not hinder him.
She was soon left with Mary Rowan, as Luke went off to fulfil the first of his numerous engagements. “Do you like my brother?” said she. “But of course I don’t mean you to answer that question. We all think him so very clever.”
“I’m sure he is very clever.”
“A great deal too clever to be a brewer. But you mustn’t say that I said so. I wanted him to go into the army.”
“I shouldn’t at all like that for my brother—if I had one.”
“And
