So Otterburn, having received this encouragement, made up his mind to speak to Victoria at Mrs. Veilsturm's ball. Aunt Jelly had not intended to let Miss Sheldon go to this festivity at first, thinking that Mrs. Veilsturm had designedly attracted Guy, but when she heard the way in which she was behaving, she withdrew her prohibition and insisted upon Victoria going. Not only that, but she herself selected a costume for her ward, and considerably astonished that young damsel when she told her what she wanted her to appear as. "Why Flora Macdonald?" asked Victoria, in surprise. "I'm not a bit Scotch." "Are you not?" said Aunt Jelly drily. "I thought your mother was?" "Oh, yes, but----" "Don't make nonsensical objections, child," replied Miss Corbin sharply, with a flash of her old spirit. "I want you to go as Flora Macdonald, and I've no doubt you'll find out the reason before the ball is ended." Whereat Victoria, being less innocent of the reason than she pretended to be, laughed gaily, and went off with Minnie Pelch on a shopping excursion. "Minnie," she said to her companion, when they left Miss Corbin, "do you know anything about Flora Macdonald?" "Oh, yes," said Minnie, delighted at displaying her historical knowledge. "She was in love with Bonnie Prince Charlie, and saved his life, you know." "Bonnie Prince Charlie," repeated Victoria thoughtfully, "perhaps I'll meet him at the ball." "I shouldn't wonder," replied Miss Pelch significantly, for being a true woman, and dearly loving a romance, she had seen long ago how matters stood between Otterburn and Miss Sheldon. So they went shopping all that bright afternoon, hunting up tartans, talking learnedly about Cairngorm brooches, and white cockades, and Jacobite songs, and the Lord knows what else. Ah me, how strangely does Fate deal with our lives. Here was Guy drifting away from his wife day by day, and Angus being drawn nearer and nearer to Victoria. What Sir Guy Errington and Alizon Mostyn were two years before, they were about to become now--would their future be the same? Who could tell? Fortune, blind and capricious, whirls her wheel round and round, raising and abasing men and women daily, hourly, momentarily, unaware herself, by reason of her bandage, of the good and evil she allots to one and another. CHAPTER XXXII. WHAT MADE THE BALL SAE FINE?