Sir Oswald declared himself delighted, and the captain's praises were unmeasured. Then, and then only, Miss Darrell began to feel some interest in the ball; her love of beauty was awakened and pleased—there was something more in the event than the mere gratification of seeing people dance.
The expected visitors had arrived on the Tuesday—Lady Hampton, radiant with expected victory; Elinor, silent, thoughtful, and more gentle than ever, and consequently more pleasing.
Lady Hampton was delighted with the idea of the ball.
"You must make a bold stroke for a husband on that evening, Elinor," she said. "You shall have a superb dress, and I shall quite expect you to receive and accept an offer from Sir Oswald."
Elinor Rocheford raised her eyes. There was something wistful in their expression.
"Oh, aunt," she said, "I like the captain so much better!"
Lady Hampton did not lose her good humor—Elinor was not the first refractory girl she had brought to her senses.
"Never mind about liking the captain, my dear; that is only natural. He is not in love with you. I can see through the whole business. If Darrell Court goes to Miss Darrell, he will marry her. He can marry no girl without money, because he is, I know, over head and ears in debt. Major Penryn was speaking of him to-day. The only way to prevent his marriage with Miss Darrell is for you to take Sir Oswald yourself."
Elinor's face flushed.
Lady Hampton certainly understood the art of evoking the worst feelings. Jealousy, envy, and dislike stirred faintly in the gentle heart of her niece.