Red Rose and Tiger Lily Part 23

Mrs. Martin loathed gipsies.

"None of your sauce," she said in an angry voice. "This is no place for the like of you; get out at once or I'll let Miss Hester Thornton know."

"Oh, nursey, nursey, you'll kill me," exclaimed Annie in a voice choked with laughter. "Do you mean to say you don't know me?"

"My sakes alive, Miss Annie Forest!" exclaimed the old woman. "Who'd have thought you'd have been up to this folly? What are you doing, masquerading like them hateful gipsies? It's bad enough to have wings and clouds about; but gipsies--'tain't respectable; my word, no."

"This gipsy is eminently respectable," said Annie, with a sort of bitter emphasis. "Here, nursey, take my hand, and let me lead you up the ball-room. I have many strange characters to introduce you to. I see plainly that you won't recognise them without my kind a.s.sistance. Here, come along, be quick."

"My head is getting _moithered_, and that's the only word," said nurse Martin. "Dear, dear, what _are_ the young coming to? And sakes alive, what in the world are those?"

The creatures thus apostrophised by the almost frightened nurse Martin, were a troop of fairies and brownies, who now rushed into the ball-room from every direction. The band struck up a merry waltz, and the fairies and brownies began to dance with vigour.

"Its past belief," said Mrs. Martin "and did you make all them wings, Miss Annie?"

"Oh, dear, no," replied Annie; "they were made by the mothers of the fairies--at least, I presume so. Now come into the supper-room and let me get you a comfortable seat."

Mrs. Martin was glad enough to comply. She said the slippery floor of the ball-room, and the uncanny creatures that were all round her, made her feel as if the top of her head would come off. She uttered a little shriek of terror as Jane Macalister, dressed as Minerva, glided fiercely by, and was glad to seat herself in a safe corner behind one of the long supper tables. Annie desired a servant to give her all the refreshment she required, and then ran off to attend to the other guests.

Fast and furious rose the fun. During the whole of the present century the old ball-room at the Towers had not reflected so gay and animated a scene. Grim ancestors of the house of Lorrimer looked down from their tarnished frames at the last Lorrimers as they danced away their precious time in this frivolous and yet enchanting manner. The grown people, who sat in the gallery and on benches near the walls, talked in whispers to one another about the lovely scene. The Lorrimers were popular in the county, and although rumours of coming trouble were rife about them, yet their friends and well-wishers augured happy results from this present gaiety.

But why was not the Squire present, and why was Mrs. Lorrimer absent?

Molly, who made the gentlest of shepherdesses, came up as these remarks pa.s.sed the good people's lips. She stopped to speak to an old friend of her mother's.

"I'm so glad you were able to come," she said; "and how sweet your children look."

"It was very kind of you to ask us, my dear," responded this lady, "and the sight is a charming one--quite charming; but I am sorry to miss your mother."

"Mother is in London at present; she is away on special business. She is ever so sorry to be absent to-night."

"And the Squire, is he quite well?"

"Yes, thank you. He is in London with mother."

At this moment a brownie with a hot face and looking rather uncomfortable in his brown-velvet tights, accompanied by the most spiritual-looking fairy it was possible to see, revolved slowly round in the mazes of the waltz.

The brownie's honest face was raised to Molly's; his brown eyes were full of a question; the fairy by his side had a far-away look. They both floated away.

"Oh, what a charming little pair," said Mrs. Fortescue, Molly's friend.

"Do you know who they are, Miss Lorrimer?"

"That poor, hot brownie is my brother, Boris," exclaimed Molly; "and that little girl is Nell, my sister."

The lady sat down again; and, Molly's partner coming up to claim her, she joined in the dance, and forgot the question in Boris's eyes.

There was a commotion near the entrance door. Hester was seen to move hastily forward. There was a call for Nan, who, accompanied by her partner, Little Boy Blue, rushed quickly across the room, and the next moment a tall, aristocratic-looking man was seen moving up the ball-room with Hester's hand on his arm. Sir John Thornton had kept his word. He had returned in time if not for the whole of Nan's birthday, at least to see it out.

The matrons who sat about the room remarked on his appearance, and said that they had never seen him look better, younger, or more cheerful.

They said what an admirable thing it was for Sir John to have Hester at home; and, as Sir John himself was the best possible company in society, he soon made his presence agreeably felt all over the room. In the Squire's absence he naturally took the part of host; and no one could be a more polished or charming host than he.

One of the many delightful features of this great fancy ball was the presents which the fairy queen was to bestow upon her many subjects at the end of the festivities. These presents lay piled up in comical shapes all round her, and helped to form some of the billowy clouds on which she was supposed to be resting. The poor little fairy queen certainly looked most charming, and when the moment came for giving away the presents, she would enjoy herself to the full; but just now she could not help envying those fairies and brownies, who could jump about and skip and dance and have a very good time, without being in quite such a grand position as she was. On the queen fairy's head rested a spangled crown of light texture. She felt it almost heavy just now, and murmured to herself in a sentimental voice, "Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown."

Boris, with his eyes still full of that unanswered question, came near and looked at her.

"Are you having an awfully dull time, Nonie?" he asked.

"Oh, it's all right," said Nora, who would have scorned to complain.

"You're going to give us our presents by-and-by."

"Yes."

"You'll feel jolly and hop o' my thumb, won't you?"

"Oh, I'll feel nothing special," replied Nora, who did not wish to encourage this brownie in his efforts after familiarity.

"How hot you look, Boris," she said, with a slight laugh.

"Hot?" echoed Boris. "I'm boiling. It's these abominations of tights.

Nonie, I'd like to tell you something; it's very important, very."

"You can't possibly tell it to me now, Boris," replied Nora; "don't attempt to come too near, disarranging my clouds. Oh, what a naughty, troublesome boy you are; you have trodden upon that piece of white tarlatan, and it has all got out of shape. Do run away; do leave me alone."

Boris scampered off; he had suddenly caught a glimpse of the round, smooth face of the shepherdess, Molly, in the distance. If he could only catch her up, she would allow him to whisper in her ear. Nora was always rather a cross patch, but Molly was kind. Molly would be interested, even though she was a shepherdess. He trod on some long trains as he skimmed by. People called him a tiresome child and an awkward little worry, but he did not heed them; he was gaining on Molly, and Molly would be sure to listen to him. Everything would be all right when Molly knew. Now, he had all but reached her, but no, how tiresome--how more than tiresome--a shepherd came up and held out his crook to Molly, who held out hers to him, and then they joined hands, and then they danced away, away, away, far, very far from Boris and his question.

He turned round and stamped his pointed shoe in his vexation.

Nell suddenly came up and touched him.

"Did you find Molly? Have you told her?" she asked.

"No, I can't get to her," replied Boris; "she's dancing over there with that horrid shepherd; he's only Hugh Pierson, and he doesn't look a bit well. Let's dance by ourselves, Nell; let's forget; 'twasn't nothing but nonsense, I'm sure."

"I can't forget," replied Nell.

"Well, aren't you a little bit hungry? There's lobster and pink champagne in the supper-room. I'm going in for some; I heard Hugh Pierson say it was ripping; come and let's have some."

"I couldn't touch any," said Nell with a little shudder of disgust.

Boris looked at her and gave vent to the faintest of sighs.

"While I'm having my lobster, you could eat a jelly, couldn't you?" he said in the most insinuating of whispers.

"No, I couldn't; I couldn't touch anything. Go and eat if you want to, and then come back to me here. I'm going to stand by that window; perhaps he'll come back and take another peep."

"It couldn't have been him, Nell; you know it couldn't; he's away in London, you know."