Colonel Wilton offered his arm, and they proceeded to the ball-room. It was the largest of two large drawing-rooms, only separated by handsome columns. Cleared of furniture and profusely decorated with flowers, it was spacious and attractive enough to satisfy the wildest D----shire imagination, nor was it beneath the approval of the experienced Londoners staying in the house. At one end it opened on a large fragrant conservatory; here the band was stationed; the further end of the second drawing-room was an apartment devoted to refreshments, and again communicating with the conservatory by a glass-covered passage lined with tropical shrubs, lighted by soft, ground-glass lamps, and warmed to a delicious temperature. When Wilton entered the ball-room the first sets of quadrilles were being formed. He soon perceived Isabel standing beside her step-father, and Miss Walker, in festive attire, conversing with a learned-looking old gentleman in spectacles at a little distance. Wilton's heart failed him. Where was Ella Rivers? Had Donald insisted on keeping her a prisoner lest she might enjoy a pleasure he could not share? However, he asked the delighted school-girl to dance with a suitable air of enjoyment, and before the third figure had begun had extracted the following information. "Donald has been frightfully cross all day; he always is when we have a ball; and he has kept Miss Rivers so late! But I think she is ready now; she was to wait in the conservatory till Miss Walker went for her, as she could not very well come in alone." After which communication Miss Isabel Saville found her partner slightly absent, and given rather to spasmodic spurts of conversation than to continuous agreeability. In truth, the quadrille seemed very long. He watched Miss Walker carefully; she was still alone, and--if such a phrase could be applied to anything so rigid--fluttering amiably from one dowager to another among the smaller gentry invited once a year. "Now Colonel Wilton," said Lady Fergusson when the quadrille was over, "I will introduce you to a charming partner--an heiress, a belle--" "Do not think of it," he interrupted. "I have almost forgotten how to dance; you had better keep me as a reserve fund for the partnerless and forlorn." Wilton stepped back to make way for some new arrivals; still, no sign of Ella. Miss Walker was in deep conversation with a stout lady in maroon satin and black lace; she had evidently forgotten her promise; so, slipping through the rapidly-increasing crowd, Wilton executed a bold and skilful flank movement.