"This gay gallant, Arabella," said the Countess, aloud, "wishes me to make myself ridiculous by dancing with him. Will you take compassion on him, fair niece?"
"It is too warm and close to be compassionate," replied Arabella, with a smile; "I will wait a little, Sir George, by your good leave."
At that moment, Lord Montgomery turned to answer some question of the Queen; and the Countess, approaching her lips close to Arabella's ear, whispered a few words in a hurried manner.
She had not calculated the degree of her niece's firmness well. A sudden paleness spread itself over Arabella's face; and after gasping a moment for breath, she sank down upon one of the low stools, while Lady Shrewsbury had just time to catch her drooping head upon her arm.
An immediate bustle took place around the spot; but Sir George Rodney exclaimed, "'Tis nothing but a swoon from the heat! She will be better in an instant, your Majesty. I will carry her into the ante-chamber for air;" and raising her, stool and all, he bore her through a door behind the throne, while the Countess supported her head.
Several persons followed, but returned one by one, saying that the lady was somewhat better; and some of the light wits began to laugh, and say that it was more the warmth of Lord Rochester's manner to the Countess of Essex, than the warmth of the room, that had affected the Lady Arabella. In a minute or two Lady Shrewsbury reappeared, and in a low tone told the Queen that her niece had somewhat recovered, but she feared would not be able to rejoin the royal party.
"We will take her to her own room," she said, "and, by your Majesty's gracious permission, I will sit with her for half-an-hour."
She then rejoined Arabella, who was seated in the antechamber, with Sir George Rodney still beside her, together with a young lady belonging to the Court.
"She will do well now, Lady Lucy," said the Countess; "pray go back to the Queen. Rodney and I will take care of her. Repeat her some of your verses, Sir George, and make her laugh.--Nay, indeed, I will not have you stay, sweet girl," she continued, taking her young friend by the hand, and leading her back to the door of the ball-room; "I will bring you a good account of her in half-an-hour.--Now Arabella," she added, in a low voice, when the door was closed, "be firm, my dear. Remember for what a stake we all play."
Arabella turned her eyes with a look of timid apprehension from the face of her aunt to that of Sir George Rodney.