“My dear,” said my companion, “you were an immense success. I don’t mean to flatter you—the young men will do that—but I quite agree with Lady Ryder, when she said you looked like the princess in a fairy tale. Wasn’t it amusing?”
“Oh, Mrs. Soames,” I murmured, in an exhausted voice.
“I saw that you gave a square dance to that dreadful Balthasar, but I must confess that you did not look as if you were enjoying yourself. More like the goddess of war with a drawn sword in your hand, or our dear Lady Disdain—so amusing!”
“I hated dancing with him,” I said peevishly, “but Ronnie likes me to be civil to everybody.”
“I danced twice with Ronnie; he is a dear, good fellow, and never forgets that an old married woman may still enjoy a waltz. Jim went home about one, but I, as you see, played the conscientious chaperon. Thank goodness to-morrow will be Thursday, and there will be no parade, and everyone can enjoy a Europe morning.”
“I feel as if I could stay in bed all day,” I murmured.
“No, no, my dear,” protested my companion, “you must come to tiffin with me. We will talk over the ball; how everyone looked and behaved, and you shall tell me about your partners, and which of them you liked best?”
As the ayah was undressing me that morning, she asked me in a drowsy voice:
“Where got missie’s fan?”
Where indeed! Then I suddenly remembered how Captain Falkland had taken it away. What had he done with it? There are no pockets in uniform. In the surprise caused by Mrs. Wolfe’s sudden descent upon us he must have stuffed it into the breast of his coat. I rather hoped that he would keep it!