Margaret Capel Volume Iii Part 10

"At two, dearest."

"What ice is this, Collins? Pine? Oh! it's pretty good; as well as one can expect in this remote corner of the earth. There, I feel better now."

Mr. Collins obsequiously held her ice-plate. "Will you dance to-night?"

he asked, leaning over her.

"Why--I think I will take a few turns when the waltzing begins," she replied.

The Mazourka finished, Margaret went to claim her bouquet of Mr. Gage; but to her dismay, she found him leaning against the pillar in profound thought, and the floor quite strewn with the delicate leaves of her blush roses. He started on seeing her; seemed rather confused, a most unusual thing for him, and began to attempt some apology for his depredations.

He could only hope that Miss Capel would not again leave him to the mercy of his own reflections, now that she saw how badly he employed his leisure. He scarcely knew how to palliate his offence, for he was aware of the importance of a lady's bouquet.

Margaret, smiling archly, received the remains of her bouquet with a very good grace, and said that she suspected Mr. Gage had a better right to dispose of the flowers than she had.

He replied by a gracious bow and smile, and begged her with much humility to allow him to conduct her to the refreshment room.

There they found Harriet and the Spanish Count, standing eating ice and wafers. Harriet laughing and talking, the Conde keeping his eyes fixed upon her with that watchful admiration, that is very nearly allied to a more tender feeling.

Harriet turned quickly round to Margaret, leaned close to her ear, and exclaimed:

"My dear Margaret, such a discovery! Did you notice a large woman, superbly dressed, who came in during the Mazourka?"

"Yes," replied Margaret.

"Mrs. Maxwell Dorset, my dear!" said Harriet enforcing her words with a tap of her fan.

Margaret's face expressed, in a slight degree, her unspeakable surprise at this piece of news.

"A fact, my dear," resumed Harriet. "I am going to ask George to introduce me to her."

Margaret caught her friend by the arm as she was pressing forward.

"Harriet! you cannot be in earnest," she exclaimed, "you must be jesting--such a character. I am sure no friend of yours would present you."

"What a very innocent little soul!" said Harriet, drawing back, with a touch of scorn in her voice. "The lady's character is as fair as yours or mine. You may impeach her taste, Margaret, but not her virtue, for there stands her guarantee--her husband, good easy man! She merely takes presents of value from her admirers, instead of bouquets, like you and I. 'Men's eyes were made to gaze,' _ma mie_, and a beautiful woman may be admired, I hope, without being sent to Coventry for the offence."

"But after all that has past, Harriet," said Margaret, imploringly, "indeed, it would be very wrong to ask Mr. Gage."

"My dear, let 'bygones be bygones,'" said Harriet with an air of decision. "I wish Mr. Gage you would introduce me to that lady opposite--Mrs. Maxwell Dorset. I have a great inclination to become acquainted with her." Harriet spoke with unusual suavity of manner.

Mr. Gage raised his eyebrows and looked at her for a moment with astonishment, and then without losing his self-possession, as she had hoped, he replied that he very much regretted it was entirely out of his power to comply with Miss Conway's request.

Harriet's eyes flashed fire; she turned away and went back to the ball-room, where she directly engaged Margaret to dance with the Conde de F---- who was still in attendance upon her, and then after looking round on every side for some means of annoyance, she said calmly as if to herself, "I shall dance with Sir Hawarth Fane when he comes to ask me."

Mr. Gage, who well knew that this speech was pointed at him, remarked coldly, that he believed he had heard Sir Evan express a very decided opinion upon that subject.

Harriet looking every moment more resolute, repeated, "I shall dance with Sir Hawarth Fane."

Now the fact was, that Sir Hawarth Fane was one of the worst characters in the county, but he was a single man of large property, and therefore very well received in most families. He had given some decided proofs of admiration for Harriet; but Sir Evan had always required her to receive them as coldly as possible. Even Mr. Singleton had often begged her "for G.o.d's sake never to dance with that fellow Hawarth Fane."

Harriet received his homage as her due, had it been ten times more marked; treated him with the easy neglect she generally a.s.sumed towards her admirers, and never danced with him, for the single reason that he was forty years old, and had a red face.

Margaret could only hope that he would not make his appearance, but soon a stout figure was seen to emerge from the doorway, and with his gla.s.s in his eye, to look eagerly about for some one. Mr. Gage looked as resolute as Harriet, and both turned their eyes in the direction of the advancing Baronet. Margaret was breathless. Harriet drew her handkerchief through the jewelled ring hanging to her bouquetiere, and settled herself as if she meant to prepare for the next dance. It was quite clear, both to Mr. Gage and Margaret, that she had made up her mind. Mr. Gage looked like Creon, and Harriet like Antigone--neither spoke. Sir Hawarth who had been blundering about the room with his eye-gla.s.s, very much like a person who had sat a good deal too long after dinner, now caught sight of Harriet, and steered his course in her direction. Mr. Gage leaned over Margaret, and whispered to her:

"Miss Capel, the man is a thorough blackguard; he shall not dance with Harriet. If you cannot prevent it--I _will_."

Margaret looked up at him with such a glance of quick intelligence, as he could not have believed her to possess.

"Harriet!" she said, as Sir Hawarth neared them, "if you dance with that man, I will leave Singleton Manor to-morrow morning."

"You!" said Harriet, turning quickly upon her.

"I will," returned Margaret.

"I dare say," said Harriet laughing scornfully, "but I won't let you. I will lock you up in the store-room among the apricots."

"I am in earnest," said Margaret, "take your choice."

"The pleasure of dancing the next quadrille with you, Miss Conway," said Sir Hawarth Fane, evidently rather intoxicated.

"Engaged, Sir Hawarth," replied Harriet in some confusion, her colour rose, her breath grew short, she was evidently in much agitation.

"Engaged! I am deucedly sorry for that," said Sir Hawarth in a thick voice, "I'll wait till after this quadrille, and perhaps I may prevail on you to galop with me afterwards."

He certainly looked in a charming condition for a galop. Harriet replied that she was really sorry, but that they were to leave the ball-room after the next dance.

Sir Hawarth muttered something about his being in confounded ill-luck; and that there was not another woman in the room worth dancing with.

"And pray," he whispered, "could not you be off your engagement? Is it any very particular person? Who is it, if I may be so bold?"

The dancers were collecting; Harriet, not knowing how to answer, and aware that he was not quite composed in his mind, glanced uneasily round the room. Mr. Gage coming forward in the most natural manner, said easily:

"Now, Miss Conway, if you will do me the honour--"

Harriet took his arm, and joined the dancers.

"Oh!" said Sir Hawarth, satisfied that her plea of an engagement was genuine.

Harriet's anger was magnificent. She felt that for once she had lost her self-command, when she excused herself on the plea of being _engaged_; she, who never hesitated to refuse a partner upon the most trivial reason, and frequently upon no reason at all; and whose right to do so was tolerably well established. She to commit herself! To put herself in the power of Mr. Gage--to be obliged to dance with him to cover a blunder of her own. It was insupportable.

Mr. Gage moved through the figure as carelessly as possible. Harriet never danced a step, hardly vouchsafed her fingers' ends, when it was requisite to give her hand, and never directed to him a single glance from those stormy, dark eyes, that seemed to burn beneath her haughty brows. She never uttered a word even to those about her, but employed herself in opening and shutting her emblazoned fan with the jerk peculiar to Spanish women, which movement completely diverted the eyes of the Conde from his partner to herself. It brought his country more completely home to him than even the pure Castilian in which she had been so ably conversing.

As soon as the quadrille was over, and before the dancers had time to disperse, Harriet turned from her partner without the slightest gesture of acknowledgment, and making a sign to Margaret, walked into the cloak-room, followed by seven or eight gentlemen, more or less in despair at her early departure. She suffered the Conde to put on her shawl, and hand her into the carriage, and parted from him with a smile, and a verse from Calderon. Mr. Humphries and Mr. Gage both attended Margaret, and then got into their own conveyance.

There was a profound silence for a short time. Mr. Singleton felt that something was wrong, and was really so much under the dominion of his niece, that he hardly ventured to make a remark. At last he made bold to say that it was a very good ball.

"Very," replied Margaret.

Harriet said nothing.