Lady Whitney came sailing downstairs, a blaze of yellow satin; her face, with flurry, like a peony. She could hardly say a word of thanks for the pearls, for her wits had gone wool-gathering. When she was last at Court herself, Bill was a baby in long-clothes. We went out with them to the carriage; the lady's-maid taking at least five minutes to settle the trains: and Bill said he hoped the eyes at the windows all round enjoyed the show. The postillion--an unusual sight in London--and the two men behind wore their state liveries, white and crimson; their bouquets bigger than cabbages. "You will dance with me the first dance to-night?" Tod whispered to Sophie Chalk, as they were going in after watching the carriage away. Sophie made a slight pause before she answered; and I saw her eyes wander out in the distance towards Bill Whitney. "Oh, thank you," she said, with a great display of gratitude. "But I think I am engaged." "Engaged for the first dance?" "Yes. I am so sorry." "The second, then?" "With the greatest pleasure." Anna heard it all as well as I. Tod gave Sophie's hand a squeeze to seal the bargain, and went away whistling. Not being in the world of fashion, we did not know how other people finished up Drawing-room days (and when Helen Whitney went to Court they _were_ Drawing-rooms), but the Whitneys' programme was this: A cold collation in lieu of dinner, when Fate should bring them home again, and a ball in the evening. The ball was our joint invention. Sitting round the schoolroom fire one night we settled it for ourselves: and after Sir John and my lady had stood out well, they gave in. Not that it would be much of a ball, for they had few acquaintances in London, and the house was small. But now, had any aid been wanted by Miss Deveen to carry out her plans, she could not have devised better than this. For the Whitneys invited (all unconsciously) Mrs. Hughes to the ball. Anna came into Miss Deveen's after they had been sending out the invitations (only three days before the evening), and began telling her the names as a bit of gossip. She came at last to Mrs. Hughes. "Mrs. Hughes," interrupted Miss Deveen, "I am glad of that, Anna, for I want to see her." Miss Deveen's seeing her would not go for much in the matter of elucidation; it was Mr. James who must see her; and the plan by which he might do so was Miss Deveen's own. She went down and arranged it with him, and before the night came, it was all cut and dried. He and she and I knew of it; not another soul in the world. "You will have to help me in it a little, Johnny," she said. "Be at hand to watch for Mr. James's arrival, and bring him up to me."