Faith And Unfaith Part 25

"Perhaps 'Dorian' will think me a great bother."

"Let him," says Clarissa, impatiently: as yet she has not forgiven him that speech (so much mistaken) at the concert.

The 5th has arrived. The day has dawned, lived, grown to its full size, and then sunk, as we all must, into the arms of Death. The night has come, with sound of music and breath of dying flowers, and the drip, drip of the softly-flowing fountains.

The rooms are looking lovely; fair faces smile, and soft eyes gleam; and figures, round and _svelte_ as Venus's own, sway with the music and mingle with the throng.

The ball is at its height, when Clarissa, seeing Dorian, beckons to him with her fan. It is a very slight invitation to her side, but one instantly obeyed.

"Keep one dance for a friend of mine," she says, earnestly.

"Let me keep one dance for you."

"That, too, if you wish it; but I have a little friend here to-night, and she knows n.o.body, and, though I know you won't like it" (calling to mind again his supposed disparaging tone at the concert), "still, for my sake, be kind to her."

"I shall be nectar to her, if you entreat me in that fas.h.i.+on. Who is she?"

"Well, she is only a governess," begins Clarissa, beating about the bush: she is quite determined, nevertheless, that Georgie shall not be neglected or left out in the cold at this her first ball.

"A governess!" says Dorian, unthinkingly. "Oh, Clarissa, don't let me in for that. I don't _mind_ them a bit; but I'm afraid of them. She is safe to ask me if I don't think Murray's Grammar the most artfully compiled book in the world, and I shan't know what to say in reply."

"You need not be afraid of my governess," says Clarissa, earnestly: "she will not trouble you about Murray or his Grammar."

"Of course, if you say I must dance with her, I must," says Brans...o...b.., with a heavy sigh.

"I see her now. Come, let me introduce you to her."

"But not for this dance. I am engaged--I am, I give you my word--to the prettiest girl in the room,--the prettiest child, I should say."

"You can dance with your child, of course; but at least let me introduce you to my friend."

With a faint and carefully subdued shrug he submits to the inevitable, and goes where Clarissa leads. He finds himself presently at the other end of the room, near where a little dainty black-robed figure stands, with three men before her, all evidently possessed with an overpowering desire to inscribe their names upon the morsel of tinted and gilded paper she holds in her hand.

Her large blue eyes are almost black with excitement; her lips are parted, and, like Herrick's "Julia," are like "rubies," soft and rich.

She is glancing up, in a little puzzled fas.h.i.+on, at the tall fair man who is bending over her whilst going through the usual formula, "May I have the pleasure," etc.

"Well, where is this dreadful woman?" says Dorian, at this moment, almost impatiently; he is watching Georgie and the fair man, and feels distinctly savage.

"Why, here," says Clarissa.

"Here? Not the--the girl in black, talking to Bellew!"

"Yes; that is your dreadful woman."

"Oh, look here, you know, it is too absurd," says Dorian, with a low laugh. "I have danced twice with her already, and am engaged to her for this!"

"She is your 'child,' then?" asks Clarissa, opening her eyes.

"Yes; but a governess, my dear Clarissa?"

"She is teaching the Redmond children. I told you so at the concert."

"I quite forgot,--utterly. How could one think of her as that, you know?"

"Now, please, do try and write plainly," breaks in Georgie's voice, plaintively. "Up to this I have not been able to read a single name upon my card."

"I'll do my best," says the fair young man. "Is that legible?"

"Bellew, is it? Yes, I can read that. Thank you, so much. Do you know, I haven't the faintest idea who I am going to dance this with, because"--examining her card--"it looks like 'Barleycorn,' and it can't be that, you know?"

"There once was a John Barleycorn," says Mr. Bellew, thoughtfully.

Clarissa has been claimed by Horace Brans...o...b.., and has disappeared.

Dorian, coming to the front, goes up to the little beauty in black and silver, and says, in a contrite tone,--

"I am so sorry I can't write; yet nevertheless _I_ am John Barleycorn, and this dance belongs to me."

"Why, so it does," says Georgie, recognizing him in a nave manner, and placing her hand upon his arm. She performs this last act slowly and with hesitation, as though not entirely sure of his ident.i.ty, which has the effect of piquing him, and therefore heightening his admiration for her.

"You have forgotten me," he says, reproachfully.

"Oh, no,"--slowly. "It was with you I danced the last waltz, I think."

"No. The last polka." He is even more piqued now. "It has slipped your memory; yet there are some things one never forgets."

"Yes," says Miss Broughton, with a suppressed sigh; "but those are unhappy things. Why think of them now? Let us dance again, and forget while we can."

"You mistake me," says Dorian, hastily. "I thought of nothing unhappy.

I thought of you. I shall never forget this night."

"Ah, neither shall I!" says Miss Broughton, very earnestly indeed. By an artificial observer, it might be thought somewhat sentimentally.

"Do you mean that?" says Dorian, hopefully, if curiously. "Am I to understand you mean to keep this particular ball forever in mind?"

"You may, indeed."

"But why?"--with much animation, and an over-increasing show of hope.

"Because it is my first," says Miss Broughton, confidentially, with a little quick-drawn sigh of utter content, and a soft, if rather too general, smile.

"I see,"--disappointedly. "Is that your reason? What a curious one!"

"You think it ridiculous, don't you?" says Georgie, faintly, ashamed of herself; "but it is quite true, and I can't help it. I was eighteen last month, and never before was I at any ball. I shall never forget this room,--I know that,--or the lights, or the flowers, or the man over there beating time for the band, or--or anything."

"I think 'the man over there' has much the best of it," says Dorian.

"I wish I was the leader of that band. Is there any chance that your partners of this evening will be remembered by you?"