"I am not sure. I don't fall in love with people at first sight. I am slow to read character," says Violet, calmly. "You, perhaps, possess that gift?"
"Not a bit of it, my dear. I only say to myself, such and such a person has kind eyes or a loving mouth, and then I make up my mind to them. I am seldom disappointed; but as to reading or studying character, that isn't in my line at all. It positively isn't in me. But don't you think Lady Rodney is unjust to Mona?"
"Yes, I think she is. But of course there are many excuses to be made for her. An Irish girl of no family whatever, no matter how sweet, is not the sort of person one would select as a wife for one's son. Come to the ballroom. I want to make Mona perfect in dancing."
"You want to make her a success to-night," says Dorothy, quickly. "I know you do. You are a dear thing, Violet, if a little difficult. And I verily believe you have fallen as great a victim to the charms of this Irish siren 'without family' as any of us. Come, confess it."
"There is nothing to confess. I think her very much to be liked, if you mean that," says Violet, slowly.
"She is a perfect pet," says Miss Darling, with emphasis, "and you know it."
Then they adjourn to the ballroom, and Sir Nicholas is pressed into the service, and presently Jack Rodney, discovering where Violet is, drops in too, and after a bit dancing becomes universal. Entering into the spirit of the thing, they take their "preliminary canter" now, as Nolly expresses it, as though to get into proper training for the Chetwoodes' ball later on. And they all dance with Mona, and show a great desire that she shall not be found wanting when called upon by the rank, beauty, and fashion of Lauderdale to trip it on the "light fantastic toe."
Even Jack Rodney comes out of himself, and, conquering his habitual laziness, takes her in hand, and, as being the best dancer present, par excellence, teaches and tutors, and encourages her until Doatie cries "enough," and protests with pathos she will have no more of it, as she is not going to be cut out by Mona at all events in the dancing line.
So the day wears to evening; and the rain ceases, and the sullen clouds scud with a violent haste across the tired sky. Then the stars come out, first slowly, one by one, as though timid early guests at the great gathering, then with a brilliant rush, until all the sky,
"Bespangled with those isles of light
So wildly, spiritually bright."