Bebe is scarcely less delighted than I am; and all the rest of that day and the greater part of the next we spend in arranging and dissarranging countless plans.
"It shall be a ball," says Bebe, enthusiastically, "such as the county never before attended. We will astonish the natives. We will get men down from London to settle everything, and the decorations and music and supper shall be beyond praise. I know exactly what to do and to order. I have helped Harriet to give balls ever so often, and I am determined, as it will be your first ball as Mrs. Carrington, it shall be a splendid success."
"My first ball in every way," I say feeling rather ashamed of myself. "I was at several small dances before my marriage, and at a number of dinner-parties since, but I never in my life was at a real large ball."
"What!" cries Bebe, literally struck dumb by this revelation; then, with a little lady-like shout of laughter, "I never heard of anything half so ludicrous. Why Phyllis. I am a venerable grandmother next to you. Harriet," to Lady Handcock, who has just entered, "just fancy! Phyllis tells me she was never at a ball!"
"I dare say she is all the better for it," says Harriet, kindly, seeing my color is a little high. "If you had gone to fewer you would be a better girl. How did it happen, Phyllis?"
"No one in our immediate neighborhood ever gave a ball," I hasten to explain, "and we did not visit people who lived far away." I suppress the fact of our having had no respectable vehicle to convey us to those distant ball-givers, had we been ever so inclined to go. "I suppose it appears very odd to you."
"Odd!" cries Bebe; "it is abominable! I am so envious I can scarcely bring myself to speak to you. I know exactly what I may expect, while you can indulge in the most delightful anticipations. I can remember even now the raptures of my first ball: the reality far exceeded even my wildest flights of fancy, and that is a rare thing. Positively I can smell the flowers and hear the music this moment. And then I had so many partners—more I think, than I get now: I could have filled twenty cards instead of one. Why, Phyllis, I am but two years older than you, and yet if I had a pound for every ball I have been at, I would have enough money to tide me over my next season without fear of debt."
My mind—incapable of retaining, even when at its best, more than one idea at a time—is now so filled to overflowing with the thought of this ball that I quite lose sight of our expected visitor, and forget to mention the advent of Lord Chandos. I talk and dream and think of nothing but the coming gayety.
Nevertheless it causes me keen anxiety. I am conceitedly desirous of looking my best on that eventful night; I am also ambitious of seeming stricken in years, having long ago decided that my juvenile appearance as a married woman is very much against me, and that age brings dignity.
I sit down, and, running over all my dresses in my mind, cannot convince myself that any of them, if worn, would have the desired effect of adding years to my face and form. My trousseau, to be just, was desirable in every way. How she managed it no one could tell, but mother did contrive to screw sufficient money out of papa to set me creditably before the world. Still all my evening robes seem youthful and girlish in the extreme as I call them up one by one.