Ned loves my beauty; I pulled down my hair and reknotted it and pulled it down again, fearful—so foolish have I grown—lest I might fail to please him; and frowned over my dresses and rummaged bureau drawers for ribbons, until Milly, who had tapped at my door and entered almost without my notice, asked abruptly:—
"Who's coming?"
"No one; John—no, he's out of town."
I flushed to see her regard the litter about me with calm deliberateness.
"Oh, you don't have to take pains for John," she said with a short laugh. "But come; Meg's down stairs."
The General had followed Milly up; she whisked into the room, showering me with congratulations on my success at the dance, she claimed me for a dinner, a concert—half a dozen engagements.
"Oh, by the way," she said, checking her flood of gossip. "Who d'you suppose is to be at the Charity Ball? Lord Strathay. You'll talk with a real Earl, Nelly—for of course he'll ask to be introduced."
"Another dance!" groaned my aunt, who had trotted panting in the General's wake; "I'm sure I wish I'd never said she might go; I'm as nervous as a witch after last evening."
Poor Aunt; she looked tired. She's really becoming the great objector.
Such a day as it was! I started at every footstep; my heart gave an absurd jump at every movement of the door hangings. Of course I knew that Ned couldn't—that we mustn't see each other until—but Ned is mine; it's so wonderful that he loves me. If I were Milly, I wouldn't remain an hour—not a minute!—in such a false position.