CHAPTER V.
THE SAME.
The night passed quickly, and amid all this bewilderment of music and dancing and introductions, Nan very soon forgot even the existence of the young Lieutenant whose acquaintance she had made. Moreover, the succession of these rapid excitements left no room for anything resembling stage-fright—although, it is true, each time the band began anew she felt a little throb. But Lady Stratherne, who had now all her guests assembled, was so indefatigable in seeing that Nan should not be left neglected, and the dancing in this crowd was so much a matter of experiment and accident, and the fact that she was introduced to one or two partners who seemed no more expert than herself, was so reassuring, that on the whole Nan was very much delighted in her demure way, and that delight showed itself in her face and in her clear bright eyes. Her hair was a little wild, and she had lost some of her forget-me-nots, and there were one or two flying tags that had got dissociated from the skirt of her dress; but was not that all part of the play? Nan's cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were pleased and bright; the only thing that troubled her in this whirl of excitement was an occasional qualm about her mother. Had she not promised to keep the poor mamma company? But a time would come, and then she would make amends by being particularly affectionate.
The time did come. On consulting the programme Nan found opposite the next dance a scrawl that might be made out to be 'F. H. King;' and then she bethought herself of the young sailor. Well, he had left. That was very opportune. She would devote the time of this dance to her mother, and take her into the tea-room, and ask which of her old friends she had met, and even offer to go home with her if she felt fatigued.
'Mamma,' she said to Lady Beresford, 'don't you think I've done enough? England can't expect you to do more than your duty, even with all those flags overhead. Come away, and I will get you some tea, though what would be better for you still would be some B. and S.'
'Nan, how dare you!' said her mother, angrily, and glancing round at the same time. 'You may use such expressions, if you like, when you are with your brother. Pray don't disgrace the whole family when you are elsewhere.'
'Mamma, dear,' said Nan, contritely, 'it is madness, pure madness. The excitement of my first ball has got into my brain——'
'Into your what?' said her mother, with a smile. Nan, and Nan alone, could pacify her in a second.
At the same moment the band began again; and somehow Nan, looking up, found before her some one who was no other than the young Lieutenant she had met at the beginning of the evening. She was somewhat bewildered by this Jack-in-the-box sort of appearance.
'I think you promised me this next dance, Miss Beresford,' said he. He was a grave-looking young man for his years—a Corsican Brother—the Ghost in Hamlet. She did not know what to make of him.
'I thought you had left,' she stammered. 'You have not been dancing?'
'No, I have not been dancing,' he repeated.
'I will come back to you soon, mamma,' she said, and she put her hand on his arm, and moved away with him.
'The fact is,' said he, 'I don't like much being introduced to strangers. Most girls stare at you so, with a sort of hold-off air, and it is so difficult to get on pleasant and friendly terms with them.'
'I should not have thought you were so shy,' said Nan, with an honest laugh.
He flushed a little, and said—
'If you've lived most of your life on board ship, you may feel a little bit awkward; but mind,' he added with some eagerness, 'sometimes, not often (once in half a dozen years, maybe), you meet with a girl who is quite different from the others, quite different. You know it at once from her manner, and you can make friends with her with the greatest ease, simply because she is intelligent and quick in appreciation, and not affected in her ways, or stiff.'
This eager encomium passed upon an imaginary person struck Nan as being somewhat out of place; for the waltz had already begun, and she wanted to get back to her mamma: whereas this Lieutenant King seemed to wish to stand there and talk to her.
'Of course, that's special good luck for a sailor,' said he with a smile, 'to be able to make friends in a short time; for it's only a short time he has. Ashore to-day, and off to-morrow again; and what's worse, out of sight out of mind.'
'Oh, not always,' said Nan, cheerfully.
'Oh yes, it is,' he said; 'people on shore are too much concerned among themselves to think about the people away at sea. Why, you yourself now; after you leave this house to-night you will completely forget that there are such things as either ships or sailors until you come back here to another ball, and then the bunting will remind you.'
'Now there you are quite wrong,' said she firmly, 'for I see ships and sailors every day of my life.'
'Why, how is that?' he exclaimed with great interest.
'We live in Brighton,' said Nan simply, 'and I walk a good deal along the downs towards Newhaven, you know. The ships are a good way off, generally; still, you watch them, and you are interested in them.'
'You walk along the downs between Brighton and Newhaven?' he said, as if that was an extraordinary matter. 'Alone?'
'Usually.'
'When I am passing I will look out for you; I will imagine that I can see you.'
Nan thought this was idle talk, so she said with a smile,
'Shall we give up this dance too? The fact is, I want to take mamma and get her some tea, or an ice, or something.'
'Oh, don't do that!' said he eagerly; 'introduce me to her, and I will take you both down to supper. There are some people there already——'
'But I must not go down—not yet,' said Nan, remembering her youth.
'Why not?' said he boldly. 'I know Lady Stratherne well enough for anything. Why, nothing could be more natural. Of course you will come down with your mamma.'
'I'm very hungry, and that's the truth,' said Nan; 'for I was too excited or frightened to think about dinner. But if I went down now, wouldn't they think it was a little bit——'
She was about to say 'cheeky,' but she remembered in time that this was not her brother. He broke in abruptly—
'Never mind what any one thinks; come away, Miss Beresford, and introduce me to your mamma.'
Then he looked at the various couples rapidly moving round that open space to the sound of the seductive music, and he said, rather wistfully—
'Don't you think we might have one turn? I shall not dance again this evening.'
'Oh yes, certainly, if you wish it,' she said, quite blithely; and she gave him her fan to hold, and arranged her train, and a couple of seconds thereafter they were lost in that slowly circling whirlpool of muslin and silk and satin.
When they came out of it again he was introduced to Lady Beresford, and although he was quite anxiously humble and courteous to the elder lady, he would hear of nothing but that she and Nan should forthwith go downstairs to supper. By and by there would be too great a crush. It was a kindness to Lady Stratherne to go before everybody else wanted a place. And Miss Anne was hungry, which was a great matter.
Lady Beresford looked at Nan, but that young lady was unconscious. The end of it was that these three very speedily found themselves below, in the supper-room, where as yet there were only a number of elderly people who had grown tired of the duties of chaperoning. And they had scarcely sat down when Frank King, who was most assiduous in his attentions to Lady Beresford, and scarcely saw Nan at all, discovered that the mamma knew certain relatives of his, and knew all about his own family, and had even on one occasion visited Kingscourt a good many years ago. Lady Beresford was very kind to him. He was a pleasant-mannered, clever-looking young man, and he had a distinguished air that lent value to the little courtesies he paid. She even said, as they were talking of chance meetings and the like, that she would be glad if he called on them while she and her daughters were in London.
'May I be allowed to call on you at Brighton, some day, Lady Beresford?' he said quickly. 'The fact is, my leave is out; I have to rejoin my ship at Portsmouth to-morrow.'
At this Nan pricked up her ears. She suddenly remembered that to her had been entrusted the covert intelligence of his promotion. But was it necessary it should be kept so great a secret, she asked herself, rather breathlessly, and with her heart beginning to beat quickly? If he were to know on the morrow, why not now? It would make him very happy; it would indeed add a few hours of happiness to his life; and surely Sir George Stratherne, who was the very soul of kindness, would rather approve?
Well, she let these two talk on for a time; she wished to be discreet; she wished to be less nervous. For was it not a great event in the career of a young man? And how might he take it? She said to herself, 'The old monarchs used to kill the messengers who brought them bad news, and they used to give heaps of presents to those who brought them good news. I am glad I shall be able to tell him of his promotion, for he has been so excessively kind to mamma.'
She waited her opportunity.
'Oh, Lieutenant King, do you know a ship called the Fly-by-Night?' she said, quite casually, and in an off-hand way.
'Yes,' he said, regarding her with some surprise. 'She's what they call a school-brig—a training brig. I think she's at Plymouth.'
'A training-brig?' said Nan, innocently. 'Then they want a clever officer, I suppose, to be in command of a training-brig.'
'Yes, they want a smart fellow,' said he, without any great interest; and he was about to turn to Lady Beresford again when Nan continued—
'Would it—would it surprise you if you heard you were to be transferred to the Fly-by-Night?'
'I shouldn't like to hear of it,' said he, laughing; 'I am satisfied where I am.'
'But I mean to command her.'
'I'm afraid that's a long way off yet,' said he, lightly.
'Oh no, it isn't,' said Nan timorously. 'I am sure it is no great secret—you will know to-morrow—you are to be appointed to-morrow to the command of the Fly-by-Night!
His face flushed a deep red.
'You are joking, Miss Beresford.'
'Oh no, I am not,' said Nan, hastily. 'Sir George told me to-night; I am not joking at all——Captain King,' said she, at a wild venture.
For an instant she saw his under lip quiver. He sat quite silent.
Then he said—
'That is Sir George's doing—if it is possible.'
He had scarcely uttered the words when the Admiral himself appeared, bringing in a little old lady with a portentous head-dress. Nan instantly conjectured that she must be a dowager-duchess, for she thought that no one but a dowager-duchess would dare to wear such a thing.
Sir George paused as he passed them.
'Hillo, here's my sweetheart. I told you I wanted to drink a glass of wine with you. Doing your duty, Frank King? When's your leave out?'
'I am going down to Portsmouth to-morrow, Sir George.'
'No, no; you'll have a message from the Admiralty to-morrow. I didn't see you dancing to-night; you young fellows are getting lazy.'
He passed on. Nan looked triumphantly across the corner of the table.
Frank King said—laughing off his embarrassment—
'I have a vague impression that I ought to thank you for it, Miss Beresford; and I don't know how. I hope it is true. They never gave me a hint of it. You would have thought Charley Stratherne would have known.'
'It was very imprudent of my daughter,' said Lady Beresford, severely, 'to mention such a thing; but Sir George makes a pet of her, and I hope no harm has been done.'
Frank King warmly protested. How could any harm be done? And he redoubled his attentions to Lady Beresford. Not only that, but when they returned to the ball-room he was very anxious to be introduced to Nan's sisters, and was most polite to them, though he did not ask them for a dance. Moreover, he got hold of Charley Stratherne, and through him made the acquaintance of Mr. Tom Beresford; and these three, having adjourned for a time to a certain remote snuggery where were sherry and soda and cigarettes, Frank King was quite content to accept from Mr. Tom hints concerning things about town. There was in especial a famous 'lion comique'—the Great Dunse, or the Jolly Ass, or some such creature—about whom Mr. Tom was much exercised; and Frank King professed himself quite interested in hearing about this person. The grave young Lieutenant was indeed extraordinarily complaisant this evening. He was unusually talkative—when he was not a most attentive listener. You would have thought that he had acquired a sudden admiration for the brilliant social qualities of Mr. Tom, and that he had never heard such good stories before.
Well, the Beresfords left about three; and that was the end of Nan's first ball. On the whole she had every reason to be pleased. She had acquitted herself fairly well; she had gratified the soft-hearted old Admiral; she hadn't fallen in love with anybody; and she had seen a number of celebrated persons in whom she was interested. She thought she had done a kindness, too, in telling Lieutenant King beforehand of his appointment.
She was surprised, however, and a little bit annoyed when, on the afternoon of the next day but one, her brother Tom brought in this same Frank King to five o'clock tea. He said, with something of a blush, that he wished to tell her that her news had been true; he had heard from the Admiralty that morning, and he wished to thank her. Nan was somewhat cold in her manner; she had thought with some pride that he was not like the other gentlemen who came about the house in the afternoon. She had seen enough of them and their idleness, and aimless flirtations, and languid airs. She had taken Frank King to be of firmer stuff, and not likely to waste his time at afternoon teas.
He was kind and polite enough, no doubt, and he distributed his attentions in the most impartial manner—even including two young lady visitors to whom he was introduced; but Nan seized an early opportunity of slipping away to her own room, where she resumed certain very serious studies that occupied her mind at this time. When she came downstairs again Lieutenant King was gone.
On the following day her holiday ended, and she went down to Brighton. Many a time she thought of the ball, and always with a pleasurable recollection. When, however, she happened to think of Frank King—and it was seldom—it was always with a slight touch of disappointment. No doubt his leave was extended; probably he was still in town, and repeating those afternoon calls in Bruton Street. As for Nan, she honestly did not care to which train of admirers he might attach himself—whether he was to be Mary's captive or Edith's slave. But she was disappointed.
'I did think he was a little bit different from the others,' she would say to herself; and then she would turn to Mr. Lockyer's last discoveries in spectrum analysis.