But Gussy herself was still young enough, and she thought of all the opportunities of the dance and the talks aside, the conversations in quiet corners, which were legitimate on such an occasion, with a little stir in her heart. At the piano, even though it was at the other end of the room, it was still under her mother’s eyes. She never saw her lover, never talked with him except under her mother’s eyes. How could he say anything under such circumstances? Her heart was a little sick that it should all go on forever in the same way, without the least progress. He talked about the songs, or about Janet and her influence on Dolff, laughing at what he said he had foreseen from the first. Gussy did not quite like the discussion of her brother, who, after all, _was_ her brother, and not to be dissected as Charley loved to do, and she was not fond of hearing so much about Miss Summerhayes. There was no special interest in Miss Summerhayes that she should be the object of so much conversation between the two. And Gussy could not help thinking with a little pleasure of all the possibilities of the ball, where it was not only possible that two could talk together quite untrammelled, but where it was even a necessity that they should do so. To sit apart in a room unobserved with Charley once at least in the evening would be almost her duty; and then--with nothing to disturb them, no occasion for self-restraint--Gussy thought of this with a thrill through her veins yet with a sigh. She was becoming weary. All this had gone on for so long, and it looked as if it might go on forever without change. Curiously enough it was the governess alone--as if she had any say in the matter!--who objected to the idea. Of course she did not object in words--but she nearly wrecked the project notwithstanding. She said, very innocently, that she did not think--even though Mrs. Harwood was so good as to ask her--that she could be present. There was a great outcry over this, for it was at luncheon, and the whole family was at table. “Not come to the dance?” said Dolff. “Oh, but, Miss Summerhayes, that will spoil everything. I have--we’ve all calculated upon you, haven’t we, mother. Tell her she must come.” “My dear,” said Mrs. Harwood, “this is quite a new idea. I couldn’t have a dance in the house, knowing there was a young person upstairs alone. Oh, no, I couldn’t do it. Dolff is quite right--you must come.”