This was on New Year’s Eve, and all that day, from the moment when Susan drew the curtains and brought the early tea, there was an atmosphere of excitement in Nelson Lodge and Henrietta permitted herself to enjoy it. Francis Sales was to be at the ball. She forgot the threatened exile, she ignored Charles Batty’s tiresome insistence that she must dance with him twice as many times as with anybody else, because he was engaged to her.
“I don’t believe you can dance a bit,” she cried.
“I can get round,” he said. “It’s the noise of the band that upsets me—jingle, jingle, bang, bang! But we can sit out when we can’t bear it any longer.”
“That would be very amusing,” Henrietta said.
Susan, drawing Henrietta’s curtains, remarked that it was a nice day for the ball and then, looking severely at Henrietta and arranging a wrap round her shoulders, she said, “I suppose Miss Caroline is going.”
“Oh, I hope so,” Henrietta said. “She’s not worse, is she?”
“Not that I know of, Miss Henrietta, but I’m afraid it will be the death of her.” She seemed to think it would be Henrietta’s fault and, in the kitchen, she told Cook that, but for Miss Henrietta, the Battys, who were close-fisted people—you had only to look at Mr. Batty’s mouth—would not be giving a ball at all, but they had their eyes on Miss Henrietta for that half-witted son of theirs. She was sure of it. And Miss Caroline was not fit to go, it would be the death of her. Cook was optimistic. It would do Miss Caroline good; she was always the better for a little fun.
The elder ladies breakfasted in bed to save themselves all unnecessary fatigue, and throughout the day they moved behind half-lowered blinds. Henrietta was warned not to walk out. There was a cold wind, her face would be roughened; and when she insisted on air and exercise she was advised to wear a thick veil. Both ladies offered her a shawl-like covering for the face, but Henrietta shook her head. “Feel,” she said, lifting a hand of each to either cheek.
“Like a flower,” Sophia said.
“The wind doesn’t hurt flowers. It won’t hurt me.”