"Oh! do you really not understand?" said Grace, impatiently; "tall girls and very short ones." "Oh!" and Lady Lyons drew a very long breath. No band, no music, and hardly any men. It was going to be a very queer ball, Grace thought. An hour and a half passed in this way. As a rule, people wore gowns that had seen the brunt of the season--no one was very smart except as regarded jewels. A great many people had beautiful diamonds on, and some had good lace, but the majority, knowing what a crowd there would be, had left lace at home. The band arrived and began playing two or three bars of well-known valses and then stopping. Then, all at once, there was a sudden stream of people, the rooms filled all at once, and dancing began. But only in a limited space; it began all over the large room, three or four circles beginning at once. The sound of the music, the sight of others doing what she would like to do, filled Grace with despair. She did not know a soul, and nobody looked at her or noticed her in any way. Dance after dance went on, and the girl felt really forlorn--tears of vexation rose in her eyes and nearly overflowed. Lady Lyons fidgeted. "I think the Duchess might find you a partner," she said, huffily; "and what an uncomfortable sofa! I wish for my part that I was safe at home again." And Grace very nearly said, "So do I!" A funny looking little man, with curiously small eyes and a big head, passed and re-passed, looking along the benches, sliding behind the crowd, which seemed to increase every moment. As he passed he saw Grace's wistful eyes, and he went on. Returning, he was accompanied by a tall fine looking, middle-aged man; they approached, and her heart beat high with hope; this little man was some relation, and he had found her a partner. Delightful delusion born to be dispelled. The tall man bowed to Lady Lyons, and then said, "Her Grace has asked me to introduce Mr. Bott to you and your niece; he is anxious to persuade her to try this valse;" and without seeing Grace (unless, as she thought angrily, he could see her without looking at her) he bowed himself away again. Grace's mortification knew no bounds. To make her first public appearance dancing with this peculiar looking man was very terrible to her, but to sit for a whole evening behind the backs (and very ample backs) of sundry dowagers, who either preferred standing or could find no seats to their liking, seemed the only other alternative, and still more intolerable to her. She rose and moved with him, a little surprised at the way he glided through the dense crowd, making room for her behind him. She had been considered at school a perfect dancer, but dancing well with mankind requires practice which she had never had, and this little man danced abominably. He had all possible defects, and did as nearly as he could every single thing he ought not to have done.