“Dancing and games, and hide-and-go-seek!” muttered Belle. “There is nothing like a few days in a country house for bringing people together, and promoting intimacy. Three days, above all three _wet_ days, are better than a hundred balls. However there is luckily no one for George Holroyd to fall in love with. Katie is as good as engaged, the heiress is disposed of--and there is no one else!” Strange as it may appear, she never cast a thought to Betty. Her remark about wet days in a country house was perfectly just. In those wet days, Betty was the life of Roskeen. She had known the Moores for years; they all--even Ghosty and Fred--called her by her Christian name; she was invariably gay, obliging, and good-tempered, ready for anything, from a game of fox and geese, to a drive on the box seat of Colonel Moore’s drag. George Holroyd saw her now in a new light! A favoured guest, among luxurious surroundings, bright and pretty, and admired (_too_ much admired to please him, for Ghosty followed her about like her shadow), Katie appealed to her opinion on every occasion, Lady Mary stroked her hair affectionately, and Flora Pink was loud in her praises, and said that she “just adored her.” “I do like you,” said Flora, with a childlike frankness as they sat over the fire in Betty’s room; “and shall I tell you something--some one likes you _better_ than _I_ do, and that’s Mr. Holroyd. You see I know all the signs and tokens, for I have gotten a lover of my own.” “Nonsense, Flora, how can you be so silly!” “Yes, I noticed how he looked at you, when you were dressed up in that splendid old brocade, with your hair powdered, the night of the tableaux, do you mind? And he is so jealous when you are talking to Ghosty; he is a perfectly lovely young man--Great Scott! Betty! you needn’t look so angry. Have some candy.” * * * * * The evening of the dance came at last, and as George Holroyd leisurely descended the stairs, previous to taking his seat in the Moores’ comfortable family omnibus, he noticed a charming figure flitting down before him--a girl in her ball dress! She paused to take one last fond look in the great glass on the first landing. It was Betty, beautified--a fashionable young lady, in a misty, white gown, a pearl necklace, and long gloves. She carried a bouquet, too; now _who_ had given her this bouquet? He approached softly on the Turkey carpet, and looking over her shoulder observed: “_Most_ satisfactory, is it not?” “Oh!” blushing and turning round, “how you startled me, and I am quite nervous enough as it is.” “Really you must find that an entirely new sensation! Pray allow me to feel your pulse?” “No, no, thank you,” with a smile, “I am not quite so bad as that, but I have never been to any kind of dance--except the school breaking-up dances, and I have not an idea of what a ball will be like!” and she looked at him with bright, excited eyes.