Lilias’s fit of petulance about the ball had returned more strongly than ever; she partly excused herself to her own mind, by fancying she disliked the thought of the lonely evening she was to spend more than that of losing the pleasure of the ball. Mr. Mohun would be absent, conducting Maurice to a new school, and Claude and Reginald would also be gone. Her temper was affected in various ways; she wondered that William and Emily could like to go—she had thought that Miss Weston was wiser. Her daily occupations were irksome—she was cross to Phyllis. It made her very angry to be accused by the young brothers of making a fuss, and Claude’s silence was equally offensive. It was upon principle that he said nothing. He knew it was nothing but a transient attack of silliness, of which she was herself ashamed; but he was sorry to leave her in that condition, and feared Lady Rotherwood’s coming into the neighbourhood was doing her harm, as certainly as it was spoiling Ada. The ball day arrived, and it was marked by a great burst of fretfulness on the part of poor Lilias, occasioned by so small a matter as the being asked by Emily to write a letter to Eleanor. Emily was dressing to go to dine at Devereux Castle when she made the request. ‘What have I to say? I never could write a letter in my life, at least not to the Duenna—there is no news.’ ‘About the boys going to school,’ Emily suggested. ‘As if she did not know all about them as well as I can tell her. She does not care for my news, I see no one to hear gossip from. I thought you undertook all the formal correspondence, Emily?’ ‘Do you call a letter to your sister formal correspondence!’ ‘Everything is formal with her. All I can say is, that you and William are going to the ball, and she will say that is very silly.’ ‘Eleanor once went to this Raynham ball; it was her first and last,’ said Emily. ‘Yes, not long before they went to Italy; it will only make her melancholy to speak of it—I declare I cannot write.’ ‘And I have no time,’ said Emily, ‘and you know how vexed she is if she does not get her letter every Saturday.’ ‘All for the sake of punctuality, nothing else,’ said Lily. ‘I rather like to disappoint fidgety people—don’t you, Emily?’ ‘Well,’ said Emily, ‘only papa does not like that she should be disappointed.’ ‘You might have written, if you had not dawdled away all the morning.’ This was true, and it therefore stung Emily, who complained that Lily was very unkind. Lily defended herself sharply, and the dispute was growing vehement, when William happily cut it short by a summons to Emily to make haste.