Here Tilly gave the driver a cautionary dig with her elbow; as she did this, an under-pocket chinked ominously. "Look out now, Davy, what you're doing with us!—Yes, that's splosh, Mary. I always bring a bag of change with me, my dear, so that those who lose shan't have an excuse for not paying up." Tilly was going to pass her evening, as usual, at the card-table. "Well, I hope you two'll enjoy yourselves. Remember now, Mrs. Grindle, if you please, that you're a married woman and must behave yourself, and not go in for any high jinks," she teased her prim little stepdaughter, as they dismounted from the conveyance and stood straightening their petticoats at the entrance to the hall.
"You know, Matilda, I do not intend to dance to-night," said Mrs Amelia in her sedate fashion: it was as if she sampled each word before parting with it.
"Oh, I know, bless you! and know why, too. If only it's not another false alarm! Poor old pa' so like to have a grandchild 'e was allowed to carry round. 'E mustn'n go near Henry's, of course, for fear the kid 'ud swallow one of 'is dropped aitches and choke over it." And Tilly threw back her head and laughed. "But you must hurry up, Mely, you know, if you want to oblige 'im."
"Really, Tilly!" expostulated Mary. ("She sometimes DOES go too far," she thought to herself. "The poor little woman!") "Let us two keep together," she said as she took Amelia's arm. "I don't intend to dance much either, as my husband isn't here."
But once inside the gaily decorated hall, she found it impossible to keep her word. Even on her way to a seat beside Agnes Ocock she was repeatedly stopped, and, when she sat down, up came first one, then another, to "request the pleasure." She could not go on refusing everybody: if she did, it would look as if she deliberately set out to be peculiar—a horrible thought to Mary. Besides, many of those who made their bow were important, influential gentlemen; for Richard's sake she must treat them politely.
For his sake, again, she felt pleased; rightly or wrongly she put the many attentions shown her down to the fact of her being his wife. So she turned and offered apologies to Agnes and Amelia, feeling at the same time thankful that Richard had not Mr. Henry's jealous disposition. There sat Agnes, looking as pretty as a picture, and was afraid to dance with any one but her own husband. And he preferred to play at cards!
"I think, dear, you might have ventured to accept the Archdeacon for a quadrille," she whispered behind her fan, as Agnes regretfully declined Mr. Long.
But Agnes shook her head. "It's better not, Mary. It saves trouble afterwards. Henry DOESN'T care to see it." Perhaps Agnes herself, once a passionate dancer, was growing a little too comfortable, thought Mary, as her own programme wandered from hand to hand.
Among the last to arrive was Purdy, red with haste, and making a great thump with his lame leg as he crossed the floor.
"I'm beastly late, Polly. What have you got left for me?"