His entrance caused a perceptible flutter in the room, and the occupants of the sofa at once began a loud and attractive conversation.
“I’m dying to hear more about the ball,” began Miss Horan. “Aggie, you’re really no good at all”—this with artless petulance to Miss Dennehy. “I’m sure Captain Sarsfield could give a better account of it. He wasn’t sitting on the stairs all the time; were you, Captain Sarsfield?”
“I don’t think she should ask us these questions, should she, Captain Sarsfield?” responded Miss Dennehy. “I think ’tis very wrong to tell tales out of school!”
I, from the low chair which I had taken beside Mrs. Barrett, listened in some anxiety to a discussion which for both Willy and me was of so singularly discomposing a character. Willy, however, was equal to the occasion. Having fittingly assured Miss Dennehy of his abhorrence of tale-bearing, he provided himself with a cup of tea and a wedge of cake, and proceeded with unimpaired equanimity to seat himself on the sofa between Miss Horan and Miss Dennehy.
I had seldom seen Miss Horan, except behind the harmonium in her father’s church, and should certainly never have suspected her of the social gifts which she now displayed. She had a flat little face, set in a shock of hair which had once been short and had not yet become long. Her pale blue eyes almost watered with pride and excitement, as she found that her conversation with Willy was attracting the attention of the rest of the room.
“And who was the belle of the room, Captain Sarsfield?” she asked, when Willy had comfortably settled down to his tea.
“Well, as you weren’t there, Miss Horan,” answered my cousin, shamelessly, “I wasn’t able to make up my mind about it.”
A delighted titter ran round the room at this sally; as it ceased, Mrs. Barrett broke the monumental silence which she had hitherto preserved.
“My Jimmy,” she said, in a heavy, distinct voice, that lent an almost Scriptural tone to her utterances, casting an eye of disfavour at Miss Josie, “told me that Miss Sarsfield and Miss O’Neill were the belles of the ball.”
Deep as was my dismay at this unlooked-for statement, it was far excelled by that of its originator. On Willy’s arrival he had altogether effaced himself; but now, from his refuge behind his mother’s chair, I heard him inarticulately disclaiming the dashing criticism attributed to him.