“Oh, please don’t listen to Naini Tal gossip!” I protested.
“Then please listen to me. You know this ball that comes off on Monday? My friends are going—Mrs. Osborne has met you at tiffin, and she desires me to say she will be delighted to take you.”
“It is most kind of her—but Colonel Hooper——”
“Will make no objection. I’ve squared him—he knows my people at home, and he agrees that it is time you had some little distraction.”
“I am sure Mrs. Hooper won’t like it—and I know no one——”
“So much the better,” he interrupted, “then you can dance all the time with me. I suppose you have a dress?”
“Yes, and I’ll wear the pearl necklace. I’ve not been to a dance for a year; it seems too good to be true!”
After all, it was Mrs. Hooper who chaperoned me to the dance (much against the grain), and good-natured Colonel Hooper who introduced me to partners. I spent a delightful evening, my card was filled in five minutes, and I could have danced every dance three times. I gave four waltzes to Mr. Sandars, and, for once, tasted the pleasures of a social success! In fact, I overhead whispers of, “What a pretty girl! Who is she?” and the invariable answer was, “Mrs. Hooper’s governess.”
But Mrs. Hooper was not pleased with her governess. Indeed the following morning she informed me that I had made myself too shockingly conspicuous, and was altogether such bad style; and kindly Teesie threw oil upon the flames, for a little later Mrs. Hooper, looking white and austere, came to me, and said in her most impressive manner, and in her deepest tone:
“Miss Harlowe, is it true that you have met Mr. Sandars in the upper Mall, and that he said you did not look happy—and asked you about the pearls?”