At tea Octavia and he and I sat on the big sofa, and Lady Bobby did not like it a bit. She tried to talk to Lord Valmond, who was fidgeting about, looking as cross as a bear; but he would not stay still long enough to have any conversation. [Sidenote: _The Quarrel_] As we were going upstairs afterwards, he ran after me and said he must tell me that Sir Hugh was not at all the kind of man I ought to talk so much to, and would I promise him the first dance to-night? I said No, that I was going to give it to Sir Hugh, and that he had better mind his own business or I would not dance with him at all. I was not really angry, Mamma--because he is so nice-looking--but one is obliged to be firm with men, as I am sure you know. He turned round and stamped down the stairs again, without a word, in a passion. At dinner, which I went in to with Mr. Wertz, Sir Hugh was at the other side, and you can't think how friendly we got. He says I am the sweetest little darling he has seen in a month of Sundays. I kept catching sight of Lord Valmond's face between the flowers--he had taken in Mrs. Murray-Hartley--and it was alternately so cross and unhappy looking, that he must have had violent indigestion. We went to the ball in omnibuses and broughams, the usual thing; but Octavia took care that I sat between her and Lady Cecilia. Mrs. Murray-Hartley was so beautifully dressed, and her jewels were superb, and everything in very good taste. She is really a very agreeable woman to talk to, Mamma, and one can't blame her for wanting to be in Society. It must be so much nicer than Bayswater, where they came from, and Octavia says it proves her intelligence; it is easier to rise from the gutter than from the suburbs. Everybody had arrived when our party got to the ball. The Rooses are staying at Pennythorn, and Jane came and said to me at once how sorry she was to see me looking pale, and she hoped I would be able to enjoy myself--I wasn't pale, Mamma, I am sure, but I did feel just a teeny bit sorry I had quarrelled again with Lord Valmond. He never came near me, and everything seemed to be at sixes and sevens; people got cross because I mixed up their dances quite unintentionally, and, I don't know why, I did not enjoy myself a bit, in spite of Sir Hugh saying every sort of lovely thing to me. I had supper with him, and Lord Valmond was near with Lady Doraine, and she was being so nice to him, Mamma, leaning over and looking into his eyes, and I don't think it good form, do you? Two or three dances afterwards, when we went back to the ballroom, there was a polka; I danced it with some idiot who almost at once let yards and yards of my gauze frills get torn, so I was obliged to go to the cloak-room to have it pinned up. [Sidenote: _An Unpleasant Incident_]