"Ah, you both look very nice; let me help you on with your opera cloaks," said Lord Wentworth. It was the announcement of "The Ladies Edith and Florence de Vere, the Honourable Francis de Vere," that made Ellen start so. "Then he is not coming," thought she, "and my hopes are vain." "Who are those lovely creatures?" said her friend. "Lord Wentworth's sisters," mechanically answered Ellen, as the Earl, who had stayed a minute behind to give directions about the carriage, was announced. "There is Wentworth's flame," whispered Lady Florence to Edith; "how flushed she looks; but she is really very pretty." After saying a few words to his hosts, Lord Wentworth hastened after his party, only casting one glance at Ellen as he passed, and again her hopes fell, and she sighed deeply. The admired of all admirers, the two young men, each with one of his sisters on his arm, passed down the rooms, smiling, or bowing, or speaking to every one. Frank was soon relieved of Florence's company, who was whirled off in the new dance, the then novel waltz, by Sir Richard Musgrave, a lieutenant in the Captain's troop. Lord Wentworth's charge was less easy to dispose of; and, like Ellen, she saddened many a heart, till Lord Dalkeith succeeded in obtaining her hand for a quadrille. Just then the Earl caught a glimpse of Mr. Ravensworth hurrying past, and immediately followed him. "Where are you racing to, Mr. Ravensworth?" "Oh! I beg your pardon for not seeing you, my Lord, but I am just now in pursuit of my daughter, who seems lost in this gay throng." "I can, then, be of the greatest assistance, and will guide you to the missing beauty. Here, this way,--gently! Ah! there she is like a blooming Eastern bride! And now, Mr. Ravensworth, as I have guided you so well, will you reward me by an introduction to your fair daughter?" "With the greatest pleasure; but you honour her too much,--'The Earl of Wentworth--my daughter, Miss Ravensworth.'" Ellen felt almost too happy to speak. Here actually stood the Earl before her! he had pushed a point to know her,--she felt proud of her power. "Well, Miss Ravensworth, we at length know each other. Your brother Johnny is such a favourite with us all, and he has spoken so much of you, that I feel as if I was speaking to an old friend." "Oh, you are too good to say so, my Lord," was all that Ellen could answer, her heart quite fluttering all the while. Lord Wentworth, perceiving her hesitation, with the ease of a man of the world, soon put her at her ease too. A few minutes afterwards he led her forth as his partner in the next waltz. Those few minutes, with her idol's arm round her waist, and his head leaning over her shoulder, as they whirled through the elegant mazes of the dance, were a heaven upon earth to poor Ellen:-- "Merrily, merrily, cheerily, cheerily, merrily goes the ball,"