“Well, my dear Gussy, well, I’ll say nothing more; but if Dolff is the person that has the idea, so much the safer is it to come about. You know your mother never denied him anything. And the wing looks as if it could put up a pair of people famously. It is a great pity to leave it without use.” “Mamma does make some use of it,” said Gussy; “but,” she added, after a pause, “there is not so much room as you think.” “I know what use I should put it to if it were mine. I suppose Mrs. Harwood keeps the lumber in it. I should clear away all that ivy, and open the windows, and turn out the rubbish, and then---- Ah, well, I must put away all these dreams for the next year.” Gussy sat with one hand still in his, with her heart full of happiness, yet conscious of something wanting. She was melted beyond expression by his tone, and by all that he said or inferred but did not say. She was not even aware at the moment of what it was that was wanting. The ache was calmed. She was subdued and charmed away into an enchanted land. To have less than perfect faith in him would have been an offence against every tradition of her heart, and yet---- Meanwhile, Dolff was rushing everywhere, winding his way among all the groups, seeking Janet. “Mother, have you seen Miss Summerhayes? Where is Miss Summerhayes? The next is our dance” (it was the second or third which he had thus described), “and I can’t find her anywhere. Ju, where is Miss Summerhayes?” “She must have run up to her room. Perhaps she tore her dress. Perhaps she is mending up somebody else’s gown. Perhaps she was tired.” These were the explanations that were rained upon him, till Dolff became desperate. He seized Julia by the arm, and conducted her perforce to the foot of the stairs. Julia was enjoying herself very much, dancing every dance, and determining in her own mind that no force should get her to bed before everything was over. She was very indignant, and struggled as Dolff rushed her through the room without the least regard for her opinion. “Go and fetch Miss Summerhayes. Tell her it’s our dance, and I’m waiting. Go and fetch Miss Summerhayes, Ju.” “But it’s my dance as well as yours,” said Julia. “I’m going to dance with one of your men--the man with the red hair. Oh, it’s a shame! If Janet went away it must have been because she was tired. I won’t go! Oh! I won’t go!” But there were some points on which Julia was constrained to yield. Dolff was very good-natured, but there were moments when nothing was to be done with him. She was finally compelled to obey, and flew like an arrow from the bow upstairs and to the locked door of Janet’s room, against which she threw herself in her impatience. “Janet, you’re to come directly,” cried Julia. “Dolff says it’s his dance. You’re to come directly, or else I shall lose mine, for I daren’t go back without you, and my partner will get some one else. Janet, Janet, come away!”