wondering where we are.’
‘Oh, mamma! Guy won’t go.’
‘Guy! is anything the matter?’
‘Nothing, thank you, only idleness.’
‘This will never do. You really must go, Guy.’
‘Indeed! I think not. Pray don’t order me, Mrs. Edmonstone.’
‘What o’clock is it, Amy? Past ten! Papa will be in despair! What is to be done? How long do you take to dress, Guy?’
‘Not under an hour,’ said Guy, smiling.
‘Nonsense! But if there was time I should certainly send you. Self-discipline may be carried too far, Guy. But now it can’t be helped—I don’t know how to keep papa waiting any longer. Laura, what shall I do?’
‘Let me go to Charles,’ answered Guy. ‘Perhaps I can read him to sleep.’
‘Thank you; but don’t talk, or he will be too excited. Reading would be the very thing! It will be a pretty story to tell every one who asks for you that I have left you to nurse my son!’
‘No, for no such good reason,’ said Guy; ‘only because I am a great fool.’
‘Well, Sir Guy, I am glad you can say one sensible word,’ said Lady Eveleen.
‘Too true, I assure you,’ he answered, as he handed her in. ‘Good night! You will keep the quadrille for me till I am rational.’
He handed the others in, and shut the door. Mrs. Edmonstone, ruffled out of her composure, exclaimed—
‘Well, this is provoking!’
‘Every one will be vexed,’ said Laura.
‘It will be so stupid,’ said Amy.
‘I give him up,’ said Eveleen. ‘I once had hopes of him.’
‘If it was not for papa, I really would turn back this moment and fetch him,’ cried Mrs. Edmonstone, starting forward. ‘I’m sure it will give offence. I wish I had not consented.’
‘He can’t be made to see that his presence is of importance to any living creature,’ said Laura.
‘What is the reason of this whim?’ said Eveleen.
‘No, Eveleen, it is not whim,’ said Laura; ‘it is because he thinks dissipation makes him idle.’
‘Then if he is idle I wonder what the rest of the world is!’ said Eveleen. ‘I am sure we all ought to stay at home too.’
‘I think so,’ said Amy. ‘I know I shall feel all night as if I was wrong to be there.’
‘I am angry,’ said Mrs. Edmonstone; ‘and yet I believe it is a great sacrifice.’
‘Yes, mamma; after all our looking forward to it,’ said Amy. ‘Oh! yes,’ and her voice lost its piteous tone, ‘it is a real sacrifice.’
‘If he was not a mere boy, I should say a lover’s quarrel was at the bottom of it,’ said Eveleen. ‘Depend upon it, Laura, it is all your fault. You only danced once with him at our ball, and all this week you have played for us, as if it was on purpose to cut him.’
Laura was glad of the darkness, and her mother, who had a particular dislike to jokes of this sort, went on—‘If it were only ourselves I should not care, but there are so many who will fancy it caprice, or worse.’
‘The only comfort is,’ said Amy, ‘that it is Charlie’s gain.’
‘I hope they will not talk,’ said Mrs. Edmonstone. ‘But Charlie will never hold his tongue. He will grow excited, and not sleep all night.’
Poor Mrs. Edmonstone! her trials did not end here, for when she replied to her husband’s inquiry for Guy, Mr. Edmonstone said offence had already been taken at his absence from the dinner; he would not have had this happen for fifty pounds; she ought not to have suffered it; but it was all her nonsense about Charles, and as to not being late, she should have waited till midnight rather than not have brought him. In short, he said as much more than he meant, as a man in a pet is apt to say, and nevertheless Mrs. Edmonstone had to look as amiable and smiling as if nothing was the matter.
The least untruthful answer she could frame to the inquiries for Sir Guy Morville was, that young men were apt to be lazy about balls, and this sufficed for good-natured Mrs. Deane, but Maurice poured out many exclamations about his ill-behaviour, and Philip contented himself with the mere fact of his not being there, and made no remark.
Laura turned her eyes anxiously on Philip. They had not met since the important conversation on Ashen-down, and she found herself looking with more pride than ever at his tall, noble figure, as if he was more her own; but the calmness of feeling was gone. She could not meet his eye, nor see him turn towards her without a start and tremor for which she could not render herself a reason, and her heart beat so much that it was at once a relief and a disappointment that she was obliged to accept her other cousin as her first partner. Philip had already asked Lady Eveleen, for he neither wished to appear too eager in claiming Laura, nor to let his friend think he had any dislike to the Irish girl.
Eveleen was much pleased to have him for her partner, and told herself she would be on her good behaviour. It was a polka, and there was not much talk, which, perhaps, was all the better for her. She admired the review, and the luncheon, and spoke of Charles without any sauciness, and Philip was condescending and agreeable.
‘I must indulge myself in abusing that stupid cousin of yours!’ said she. Did you ever know a man of such wonderful crotchets?’
‘This is a very unexpected one,’ said Philip.
‘It came like a thunder clap. I thought till the last moment he was joking, for he likes dancing so much; he was the life of our ball, and how could any one suppose he would fly off at the last moment?’
‘He seems rather to enjoy doing things suddenly.’
‘I tell Laura she has affronted him,’ said Eveleen, laughing. ‘She has been always busy of late when we have wanted her; and I assure her his pride has been piqued. Don’t you think that is an explanation, Captain Morville?’
It was Captain Morvilles belief, but he would not say so.
‘Isn’t Laura looking lovely?’ Eveleen went on. ‘I am sure she is the beauty of the night!’ She was pleased to see Captain Morville’s attention gained. ‘She is even better dressed than at our ball—those Venetian pins suit the form of her head so well. Her beauty is better than almost any one’s, because she has so much countenance.’
‘True,’ said Philip.
‘How proud Maurice looks of having her on his arm. Does not he? Poor Maurice! he is desperately in love with her!’
‘As is shown by his pining melancholy.’
Eveleen laughed with her clear hearty laugh. ‘I see you know what we mean by being desperately in love! No,’ she added more gravely, ‘I am very glad it is only that kind of desperation. One could not think of Maurice and Laura together. He does not know the best part of Laura.’
Eveleen was highly flattered by Captain Morville conducting her a second time round the room, instead of at once restoring her to her aunt.
He secured Laura next, and leading her away from her own party, said, ‘Laura, have you been overdoing it?’
‘It is not that,’ said Laura, wishing she could keep from blushing.
‘It is the only motive that could excuse his extraordinary behaviour.’
‘Surely you know he says that he is growing unsettled. It is part of his rule of self discipline.’
‘Absurd!—exaggerated!—incredible!