He put two cards into Rose’s hand, and galloped off with the air of a man who had a vast deal of business of importance to transact. The cards contained an invitation to an election ball, which Sir Hyacinth O’Brien was going to give to the secondary class of gentry in the county. Rose took the cards to her mother; and whilst they were reading them over for the second time, in came farmer Gray to breakfast. “What have we here, child?” said he, taking up one of the cards. He looked at his wife and daughter with some anxiety for a moment; and then, as if he did not wish to restrain them, turned the conversation to another subject, and nothing was said of the ball till breakfast was over. Mrs. Gray then bade Rose go and put her flowers into water; and as soon as she was out of the room, said, “My dear, I see you don’t like that we should go to this ball; so I am glad I did not say what I thought of it to Rose before you came in: for you must know, I had a mother’s foolish vanity about me; and the minute I saw the card, I pictured to myself our Rose dressed like any of the best of the ladies, and looking handsomer than most of them, and every body admiring her! But perhaps the girl is better as she is, having not been bred to be a lady. And yet, now we are as well in the world as many that set up for and are reckoned gentlefolks, why should not our girl take this opportunity of rising a step in life?” Mrs. Gray spoke with some confusion and hesitation. “My dear,” replied farmer Gray, in a gentle yet firm tone, “it is very natural that you, being the mother of such a girl as our Rose, should be proud of her, and eager to show her to the best advantage; but the main point is to make her happy, not to do just what will please our own vanity for the minute. Now I am not at all sure that raising her a step in life, even if we could do it by sending her to this ball, would be for her happiness. Are not we happy as we are--Come in, Rose, love; come in; I should be glad for you to hear what we are saying, and judge for yourself; you are old enough, and wise enough, I am sure. I was going to ask, are not we all happy in the way we live together now?” “Yes! Oh yes! That we are, indeed,” said both the wife and daughter. “Then should not we be content, and not wish to alter our condition?” “But to go to only one ball, father, would not alter our condition, would it?” said Rose, timidly.