"And dances so well! I'd no idea of it. The young men seem rather taken with her. Don't you think so?"
"I declare I think they are. I always fancy that is rather a misfortune to a young girl,—particularly when it must mean nothing, as of course it can't with poor Rachel."
"I don't see that at all."
"Her mother, you know, Mrs. Cornbury;—they are not in the way of seeing any company. It was so kind of you to bring her here, and really she does look very nice. My girls are very good-natured to her. I only hope her head won't be turned. Here's Mr. Tappitt. You must go down Mrs. Cornbury, and eat a little bit of supper." Then Mr. Tappitt in his blue waistcoat led Mrs. Cornbury away.
"I am a very bad hand at supper," said the lady.
"You must take just one glass of champagne," said the gentleman. Now that the wine was there, Mr. Tappitt appreciated the importance of the occasion.
For the last dance before supper,—or that which was intended to be the last,—Rachel had by long agreement been the partner of Walter Cornbury. But now that it was over, the majority of the performers could not go into the supper-room because of the crowd. Young Cornbury therefore proposed that they should loiter about till their time came. He was very well inclined for such loitering with Rachel.
"You're flirting with that girl, Master Walter," said Mrs. Cornbury.
"I suppose that's what she came for," said the cousin.
"By no means, and she's under my care; therefore I beg you'll talk no nonsense to her."