‘My dear, that is always the difficulty; you know that is why we have had to give it up so often. In the vacation there is Willie Ashley; he is always somebody.’ ‘He must come,’ cried Rose, energetically, ‘for three days--that will be enough--for three days; Charley must write and tell him. And then there is--who is there more, mamma? Mr. Heathcote Mountford, that is an excellent beginning, and he is an excellent dancer, and will go on all the evening through, and dance with everybody. Still, we cannot give a ball with only one man.’ ‘I will send for my brother and some more of those young fellows from Sandhurst, Mrs. Mountford, if you can put them up.’ ‘If we can put them up!’ Rose all but threw herself into the arms of this new cousin, her eyes all but filled with tears of gratitude. She gave a little shriek of eagerness--‘Of course we can put them up; oh! as many as ever you please, as many as you can get:--shall I put down twenty for Sandhurst? Now we have a real ball in a moment,’ said Rose, with enthusiasm. It had been the object of her desires all her life. ‘Does Miss Mountford take no interest in the dance?’ Heathcote asked. ‘Anne? Oh, she will take it up when it comes near the time. She will do a great deal; she will arrange everything; but she does not take any pleasure in planning; and then,’ said Rose, dropping her voice to a whisper--‘Hush! don’t look to make her think we are talking of her; she does not like to be talked of--Mr. Heathcote! Anne is--engaged.’ ‘My dear child!’ cried her mother. ‘Mr. Heathcote, this is all nonsense; you must not pay the least attention to what this silly child says. Engaged!--what folly, Rose! you know your sister is nothing of the kind. It is nothing but imagination; it is only your nonsense, it is----’ ‘You wouldn’t dare, mamma, to say that to Anne,’ said Rose, with a very solemn face. ‘Dare! I hope I should dare to say anything to Anne. Mr. Heathcote will think we are a strange family when the mother wouldn’t _dare_ to say anything to the daughter, and her own child taunts her with it. I don’t know what Mr. Heathcote would think of us,’ said Mrs. Mountford, vehemently, ‘if he believed what you said.’ ‘I do not think anything but what you tell me,’ said Heathcote, endeavouring to smooth the troubled waters. ‘I know there are family difficulties everywhere. Pray don’t think of making explanations. I am sure whatever you do will be kind, and whatever Miss Mountford does will spring from a generous heart. One needs only to look at her to see that.’