Of course, _non cuivis contigit_, it was not every man's privilege to dance with the splendid Lady of Brandon. It was only the demigods who ventured within the circle. Her kinsman, Lord Chelford, did so; and now handsome Sir Harry Bracton, six feet high, so broad-shouldered and slim-waisted, his fine but not very wise face irradiated with indefatigable smiles, stood and conversed with her, with that jaunty swagger of his--his weight now on this side, now on that, squaring his elbows like a crack whip with four-in-hand, and wagging his perfumed tresses--boisterous, rollicking, beaming with immeasurable self-complacency. Stanley Lake left old Lady Chelford's side, and glided to that of Dorcas Brandon. 'Will you dance this set--are you engaged, Miss Brandon?' he said, in low eager tones. 'Yes, to both questions,' answered she, with the faintest gleam of the conventional smile, and looking now gravely again at her bouquet. 'Well, the next possibly, I hope?' 'I never do that,' said the apathetic beauty, serenely. Stanley looked as if he did not quite understand, and there was a little silence. 'I mean, I never engage myself beyond one dance. I hope you do not think it rude--but I never do.' 'Miss Brandon can make what laws she pleases for all here, and for some of us everywhere,' he replied, with a mortified smile and a bow. At that moment Sir Harry Bracton arrived to claim her, and Miss Kybes--elderly and sentimental, and in no great request--timidly said, in a gobbling, confidential whisper-- 'What a handsome couple they do make! Does not it quite realise your conception, Captain Lake, of young Lochinvar, you know, and his fair Helen-- So stately his form and so lovely her face-- You remember-- 'That never a hall such a galliard did grace. Is not it?' 'So it is, really; it did not strike me. And that "one cup of wine"--you recollect--which the hero drank; and, I dare say it made young Lochinvar a little noisy and swaggering, when he proposed "treading the measure"--is not that the phrase? Yes, really; it is a very pretty poetical parallel.' And Miss Kybes was pleased to think that Captain Lake would be sure to report her elegant little compliment in the proper quarters, and that her incense had not missed fire. When Miss Brandon returned, Lake was unfortunately on duty beside old Lady Chelford, whom it was important to propitiate, and who was in the middle of a story--an extraordinary favour from her ladyship; and he had the vexation to see Lord Chelford palpably engaging Miss Brandon for the next dance. When she returned, she was a little tired, and doubtful whether she would dance any more--certainly not the next dance. So he resolved to lie in wait, and anticipate any new suitor who might appear. His eyes, however, happened to wander, in an unlucky moment, to old Lady Chelford, who instantaneously signalled to him with her fan.