They walked on a little further, and Esther said, "What's these places?
Ain't they dark?"
"These are arbours, where we 'as shrimps and tea. I'll take you next
Saturday, if you'll come."
A noisy band of young men, followed by three or four girls, ran across the bridge. Suddenly they stopped to argue on which side the boat was to be found. Some chose the left, some the right; those who went to the right sent up a yell of triumph, and paddled into the middle of the water. They first addressed remarks to their companions, and then they admired the moon and stars. A song was demanded, and at the end of the second verse William threw his arm round Esther.
"Oh, Esther, I do love you."
She looked at him, her grey eyes fixed in a long interrogation.
"I wonder if that is true. What is there to love in me?"
He squeezed her tightly, and continued his protestations. "I do, I do, I do love you, Esther."
She did not answer, and they walked slowly on. A holly bush threw a black shadow on the gravel path and a moment after the ornamental tin roof of the dancing room appeared between the trees.
Even in their short absence a change had come upon the ball. About the circular buffet numbers of men called for drink, and talked loudly of horse-racing. Many were away at supper, and those that remained were amusing themselves in a desultory fashion. A tall, lean woman, dressed like Sarah in white muslin, wearing amber beads round her neck, was dancing the lancers with the Demon, and everyone shook with laughter when she whirled the little fellow round or took him in her arms and carried him across. William wanted to dance, but Esther was hungry, and led him away to an adjoining building where cold beef, chicken, and beer might be had by the strong and adventurous. As they struggled through the crowd Esther spied three young gentlemen at the other end of the room.
"Now tell me, if they ask me, the young gents yonder, to dance, am I to look them straight in the face and say no?"