Meg danced with Strathay and amused me by her elation. She hadn't really recovered from it to-day. To-day! Blessed to-day! Lord Strathay's only an Earl; to-day there came to me--Ned! Oh, this has been the gladdest, most provoking day of my life, for I had only a moment with him. It was Mrs. Baker's "afternoon," and we had a good many callers; the fame of my beauty has spread. They gazed furtively at me as they talked and sipped their tea, and it was all very stupid until--oh, I didn't know how perturbed, how unhappy I'd been, until--I glanced up for a word with the General, who came late, and behind her I saw--Him. He came to me as if there were no one else in the room. Ah, I have been unhappy! I have known that he would try to keep away from me. Useless! Useless to fight with love! It's too strong for us. At sight of him joy like a fire flashed through my veins. But there were my cousins; there was Meg--she looked at him impatiently, I fancied, as she has sometimes looked at John. Poor John, it didn't need her surveillance to break his feeble hold upon my heart. And there they stayed. They wouldn't go. They stayed, and talked, while I shivered and grew hot with fear and gladness and the excitement of his presence; they talked--of all senseless topics--about the ball. "Why, Mr. Hynes, we've missed you," said Ethel carelessly, at sight of him. "Oh, Meg, tell us about last night, won't you? Helen's said nothing; almost nothing at all." "Oh, what is there to tell?" It made me impatient. How could I chatter nothings when Ned was by my side, smiling down at me so confusedly? "Most girls would find enough! You should have heard the dowagers cluck, Ethel!" exclaimed the General, her face losing its vexed look at the thought. "It was bad weather for their broods. You never saw such a scurrying, pin feathers sticking every which way. The proudest hour of Hughy Bellmer's life was when the march started, and he walked beside Helen--same parade as always--through that wide hall between the Astor gallery and the big ball room; committeemen and patronesses at the head and the line tailing. You may believe the plumes drooped and the war paint trickled. Nelly was the only girl looked at. Milly, you should have been there? Headache? You look pale beside Helen." "Oh, I don't hope to rival Nelly's colour; she looks like--like somebody's '_Femme Peinte par Elle-même_.'" said Milly with a laugh that might have been innocent. Since Ned's entrance she had grown white and my cheeks had burned, until there was reason for her jest. "Is Mr. Bellmer handsome--handsome enough to be Nelly's partner?" persisted Ethel, impatient for her gossip--to her it's all there is of gayety. "And is Lord Strathay--nice?" "Mr. Bellmer's an overgrown cherub with a monocle," I laughed. Ned shall not think me one of those odious, fortune-hunting girls.