‘Thank you, dear good Phyl, but I think you will not have much loss. You know you do not like dancing, and you cannot do it well, and they will be sure to laugh at you.’
‘And I daresay Redgie and Marianne will tell us all about it,’ said Phyllis, sighing. ‘I should rather like to have seen it, but they will tell us.’
‘Then do you promise to stay?—there’s a dear,’ said Ada.
‘Yes,’ said Phyllis. ‘Cousin Robert is coming in, and that will be very nice, and I hope he will not look as he did the day the gunpowder went off—oh, dear!’ She went back to the window to get rid of her tears unperceived. ‘Ah,’ cried she, ‘there is some one in the garden!’
‘A man!’ screamed Ada—‘a thief, a robber—call somebody!’
‘No, no,’ said Phyllis, laughing, ‘it is only William; he has been out all the evening, and now papa has come out to speak to him, and they are walking up and down together. I wonder whether he has been sitting with Cousin Robert or at Broomhill! Well, good-night, Ada. Here comes Hannah.’
CHAPTER XXV
THE THIRTIETH OF JULY
‘The heir, with roses in his shoes,
That night might village partner choose.’
The 30th of July was bright and clear, and Phyllis was up early, gathering flowers, which, with the help of Jane’s nimble fingers, she made into elegant little bouquets for each of her sisters, and for Claude.
‘How is this?’ said Mr. Hawkesworth, pretending to look disconsolate, ‘am I to sing “Fair Phyllida flouts me,” or why is my button-hole left destitute?’