The huge ball was not yet inflated, but Mabel looked with interest on the inert mass, which was so soon to rise as if instinct with life, and was full of eager questions, which the goodnatured æronaut, himself an enthusiast on the subject, took a pleasure in answering.
The breakfast was a very cheerful meal. Augustine had such a vast intellectual store always at his command, and Vernon was so completely master of the theme then most interesting to Mabel, that she listened, and occasionally joined in the conversation with the most keen delight. Then when the breakfast was concluded, and preparations were begun for inflating the balloon with gas, Mabel joyously flitted from meadow to hall, from hall to meadow, now watching Mr. Verdon’s operations, now superintending those of the housekeeper, busy in laying out the elegant collation which Augustine had ordered for his guests. Mabel was in her element, in her glory! She was to do the honours of her uncle’s house, receive her uncle’s guests; and this to a lively girl of fifteen was a dignity of no common order!
As carriage after carriage arrived, Mabel welcomed every new comer, imitating Ida’s manner as well as her overflowing spirits would let her. It was her chief pleasure to tell every friend whom she knew, that she herself was to go in the balloon, to hear this one marvel at her courage, and that one envy her rare fortune,—to feel herself something of a heroine, an object of attention to those around her.
Dr. Bardon was one of the earliest arrivals at Aspendale Lodge. His first question was, “Has the earl come?”
Mabel replied, “Not yet;” and he gave a malicious smile.
“What does the countess say to this?” inquired Mabel; “did she know that you were coming to the Lodge?”
“I can scarcely make out what she knows or does not know, what she likes or does not like,” said the doctor gruffly; “but I suspect she’ll look out for the balloon. The wind, I see, is from the east; ’twill bear you in the direction of Mill Cottage.”
The circle of guests would now have been complete, but for the non-arrival of one. That one was most eagerly watched for. The oft-repeated question, “Has the earl come?” was now exchanged for another, “Will the earl come?” and jests were made, and bets were laid, while every minute that elapsed added to the impatience of the party.
A large concourse of people had gathered in a neighbouring field, drawn from a circuit of many miles to see the ascent of the Eaglet. Ayrton had sent its labourers, Pelton its shopboys and mechanics; the ploughman had left his team, and merry farmers’ wives had forsaken their dairies, and come with their children and grandchildren to witness the wonderful sight. The hedge which surrounded Augustine’s meadow was lined and double lined with the eager heads of such spectators as these, while around the balloon itself gathered a brilliant circle of gaily-dressed guests, privileged to occupy a nearer place.