“No; then my chief virtue will be thrown away upon you. Are all young ladies blue-ribbonites nowadays, I wonder? Mrs. Disney, pray tell me you are interested in the champagne question.” “I am not going to the ball.” “Not going! Oh, but it is a duty which you owe to the county! Do you think because you are an alien and a foreigner you can flout our local gaieties--fleer at our solemnities? No, it is incumbent upon you to give us your support.” “Yes, my dear, you must go to the ball,” put in Mrs. Crowther, in her motherly tone. “You are much too young and pretty to stay at home, like Cinderella, while we are all enjoying ourselves. Of course you must go. Mr. Crowther has put down his name for five and twenty tickets, and I’m sure there’ll be one to spare for you, although we shall have a large house-party.” “Indeed, you are too kind, but I couldn’t think----” faltered Isola, with a distressed look. She knew that Lostwithiel was watching her from his vantage ground ever so far above her head. A man of six feet two has considerable advantages at a billiard-table, and in a quiet flirtation carried on in public. “If it is a chaperon you are thinking about, I’ll take care of you,” urged good Mrs. Crowther. “No, it isn’t on that account. Mrs. Baynham offered to take me in her party. But I really would much rather not be there. It would seem horrid to me to be dancing in a great, dazzling room, among happy people, while Martin is in Burmah, perhaps in peril of his life on that very night. One can never tell. I often shudder at the thought of what may be happening to him while I am sitting quietly by the fire. And what should I feel at a ball?” “I should hardly have expected you to have such romantic notions about Major Disney,” said Belinda, coolly, “considering the difference in your ages.” “Do you suppose I care the less for him because he is twenty years older than I am?” “Twenty! Is it really as much as that?” ejaculated Mrs. Crowther, unaffectedly shocked. “He is just as dear to me,” pursued Isola, warmly. “I look up to him, and love him with all my heart. There never was a better, truer man. From the time I began to read history I always admired great soldiers. I don’t mean to say that Martin is a hero--only I know he is a thorough soldier--and he seemed to realize all my childish dreams.” She had spoken impetuously, fancying that there was some slight towards her absent husband in Miss Crowther’s speech. Her flash of anger made a break in the conversation, and nothing more was said about her going or not going to the Hunt Ball. They talked of that entertainment in the abstract--discussed the floor--the lighting--the band--and the great people who might be induced to appear, if the proper pressure were put upon them.