“Oh, yes,” rejoined Tito triumphantly, “of course she is! and I only hope she will be run in some day. Now I must fly and dress.” CHAPTER XXVIII In spite of all her excuses, protestations, and pleadings, Joseline found herself _en route_ to the Hamptons’ ball, packed into the omnibus along with seven others, and being carried to the scene of action as fast as a pair of fine steppers could take her. Figuratively speaking, the vehicle was almost bursting with high spirits; the clatter of chaffing tongues was incessant, and, as some so-called “wit” had extinguished the lamp, semi-darkness promoted hilarity. Joseline sat at the far end next to the Prince, who made a gallant attempt to hold and squeeze her hand, under the impression that she was Lady Boxhill--which endearments she forcibly returned by a sharp and vicious pinch. Now and then she was drawn into the conversation, and forced to reply to questions. “Will you give me a dance, Lady Joe?” said Colonel Wildairs, who was her _vis-à-vis_. “Thank ye, but I can’t dance--only jigs and reels.” “Well, I cannot imagine any one going to a ball that can only dance jigs,” said Gussie Tripp, “especially when she is not old enough to care for supper.” “Signs on it, I agree with you with all my heart,” declared the brogue in the corner. “I wanted to stay at home. I don’t know why Lady Mulgrave was set on bringing me, seeing I can’t dance a step, and I never eat supper.” “There is such a thing as looking on,” suggested Sir Henry Coxford. “And--sitting out,” supplemented Tito. “That’s true,” said Sir Henry. “Lady Joe, you and I will sit out a couple of dances, eh? Here we are, and a bit late too,” he added, as they drove under an illuminated porch, descended, and joined the rest of their company--a party of no less than twelve. “Quite an invading force, are we not, dear Mrs. Hampton?” said Lady Mulgrave, as she shook hands with her hostess. “I think you know most of them, except my stepdaughter, Lady Joseline, and Prince Bambinetto”--presenting them as she spoke. “I am afraid we are a little late.” “The third waltz; but you do not dance, I know. There is bridge--in the end room, and you will, I hope, get a rubber.” The party moved on and presently dissolved among the gay company. Joseline, who was not sorry for Sir Henry’s escort, made her way with him into a wide corridor hung with tapestry lined with splendid furniture, and priceless inlaid cabinets.