Walter Cornbury probably did talk a little nonsense to her, but it was very innocent nonsense. Most of such flirtations if they were done out loud would be very innocent. Young men are not nearly so pointed in their compliments as their elders, and generally confine themselves to remarks of which neither mothers nor grandmothers could disapprove if they heard them. The romance lies rather in the thoughts than in the words of those concerned. Walter Cornbury believed that he was flirting and felt himself to be happy, but he had uttered nothing warmer to Rachel than a hope that he might meet her at the next Torquay ball.
"I never go to public balls," said Rachel.
"But why not, Miss Ray?" said Walter.
"I never went to a dance of any description before this."
"But now that you've begun of course you'll go on." Mr. Cornbury's flirtation never reached a higher pitch than that.
When he had got as far as that Luke Rowan played him a trick,—an inhospitable trick, seeing that he, Rowan, was in some sort at home, and that the people about him were bound to obey him. He desired the musicians to strike up again while the elders were eating their supper,—and then claimed Rachel's hand, so that he might have the pleasure of serving her with cold chicken and champagne.
"Miss Ray is going into supper with me," said Cornbury.
"But supper is not ready," said Rowan, "and Miss Ray is engaged to dance with me."
"Quite a mistake on your part," said Cornbury.
"No mistake at all," said Rowan.