It was, in the first place, necessary to provide for the Mercury, because even a god cannot be sent away after the performance of such a journey without some provisions; and Edith, to tell the truth, wanted to look at the ball all round before she ventured to express an opinion to her sister and father. Her father, of course, would not go; but should he be left alone at Morony Castle to the tender mercies of Peter? and should Florian be left also without any woman's hands to take charge of him? And the butter, too, was on the point of coming, which was a matter of importance. But at last, having pulled off her butter-making apron and having duly patted the roll of butter, she went upstairs to her sister. "Ada," she said, "here is such a letter;" and she held up the letter and the card. "Who is it from?" "You must guess," said Edith. "I am bad at guessing, I cannot guess. Is it Mr. Blake of Carnlough?" "A great deal more interesting than that." "It can't be Captain Clayton," said Ada. "Out of the full heart the mouth speaks. It is Captain Clayton." "What does he say, and what is the card? Give it me. It looks like an invitation." "Then it tells no story, because it is an invitation. It is from the officers of the West Bromwich regiment; and it asks us to a dance on the 20th of May." "But that's not from Captain Clayton." "Captain Clayton has written,--to me and not to you at all. You will be awfully jealous; and he says that I have twice as much courage as you." "That's true, at any rate," said Ada, in a melancholy tone. "Yes; and as the officers want all the girls at the ball to be at any rate as brave as themselves, that's a matter of great importance. He has asked me to go with a pair of pistols at my belt; but he is afraid that you would not shoot anybody." "May I not look at his letter?" "Oh, no! That would not be at all proper. The letter is addressed to me, Miss Edith Jones. And as it has come from such a very dashing young man, and pays me particular compliments as to my courage, I don't think I shall let anybody else see it. It doesn't say anything special about beauty, which I think uncivil. If he had been writing to you, it would all have been about feminine loveliness of course." "What nonsense you do talk, Edith." "Well, there it is. As you will read it, you must. You'll be awfully disappointed, because there is not a word about you in it." Then Ada read the letter. "He says he hopes we shall both come." "Well, yes! Your existence is certainly implied in those words." "He explains why he writes to you instead of me." "Another actual reference to yourself, no doubt. But then he goes on to talk of my pluck." "He says it's a little higher than mine," said Ada, who was determined to extract from the Captain's words as much good as was possible, and as little evil to herself. "So it is; only a little higher pluck! Of course he means that I can't come near himself." "You wouldn't pretend to?" asked Ada.