Dick's behavior had been simply perfect all the afternoon in his father's eyes; but later on, when the band struck up a set of quadrilles, he committed his first solecism in manners: instead of asking Lady Fitzroy to dance with him, he hurried after Nan. "This is our dance; come along," he said, taking her unwilling hand; but she held back a moment. "Are you sure? Is there not some one else you ought to choose?--Lady Fitzroy, for example?" questioned Nan, with admirable forethought. "Bother Lady Fitzroy!" exclaimed Dick, under his breath; he had had quite enough of that lady. "Why are you holding back, Nan, in this fashion?" a cloud coming over his face. "Haven't you promised weeks ago to give me the first dance?" And Nan, seeing the cloud on his face, yielded without another word. Dick always managed to have his own way somehow. "Dick! Dick!" cried his father, in a voice of agony, as they passed him. "All in good time; coming presently," returned the scapegrace, cheerfully. "Now, Nan, this is our place. We will have Hamilton and Dulce for our _vis-a-vis_. What a jolly day; and isn't this first-rate?" exclaimed Dick, rubbing his hands, and feeling as though he were only just beginning to enjoy himself. Nan was not quite so easy in her mind. "Your father does not look very pleased. I am afraid, after all, you ought to have asked Lady Fitzroy," she said, in a low voice; but Dick turned a deaf ear. He showed her the rose in his buttonhole; and when Nan told him it was withered, and wanted him to take it out, he gave her a reproachful look that made her blush. They were very happy after this; and, when the dance was over, Dick gave her his arm, and carried her off to see Vigo, who was howling a deep mournful bass at the back of the gardener's cottage. Nan made friends with him, and stroked his black curly head, and looked lovingly into his deep melancholy eyes; and then, as her flowers were fading, they strolled off into the conservatory, where Dick gathered her a fresh bouquet and then sat down and watched her arrange it. "What clever fingers you have got!" he said, looking at them admiringly, as Nan sorted the flowers in her lap; and at this unlucky moment they were discovered by Mr. Mayne, who was bringing Lady Fitzroy to see a favorite orchid. He shot an angry suspicious glance at his son. "Dick, your mother is asking for you," he said, rather abruptly; but Dick growled something in an undertone, and did not move. Nan gave him a frightened nudge. Why was he so imprudent? "I cannot move, because of my flowers; do go, Dick. You must indeed, if your mother wants you;" and she looked at him in such a pleading way that Dick dared not refuse. It was just like his father to come and disturb his first happy moments and to order him off to go and do something disagreeable. He had almost a mind to brave it out, and remain in spite of him; but there was Nan looking at him in a frightened, imploring way.