She felt that she must make a confidant of some one, even though it was Katy, the maid.
"You must not think for one moment I am jealous, Katy," she said, "for I assure you I am not; only as host I should not like him to pay too much courtesy to any one person, you know."
"Certainly not," assented Katy.
"I have asked Iris what she intends to wear, but for some reason she does not tell me, so I want you to notice particularly what she has on, and if she looks very pretty. But then, I think she is sure to look nice."
"I shall look very closely, you may be sure of that," responded Katy, "and tell you of everything that goes on—who's dancing, and who's sitting in corners flirting, and just who Mr. Kendal dances with. Will he take you in to supper, miss?" she asked, suddenly.
She was sorry the moment after that she had asked the question, for Dorothy's poor, sightless eyes filled with great tears.
"You know that he would like to," she murmured, faintly, "but it would be a ghastly sight—a poor blind girl sitting at the festal board with the gay guests. Oh! why did God put such a terrible affliction upon me?" throwing out her little white hands and beating the air as she sobbed aloud in her agony. "Why can I not enter into his joys, and share them with him as others do? Oh, Katy! will I not make but a sorry wife for my handsome king—my idol? I wonder what he can find about me to hold me still dear in his eyes, for I am no longer pretty, willful, madcap Dorothy, as they once called me."
Chapter XVIII.
The night of the ball came at last—the night which had been looked forward to so anxiously for weeks by many a maiden and brave swain.
By the time night had drawn her sable curtains over the sleeping earth all the preparations had been completed at Gray Gables, and when the lights were lighted it presented such a brilliant spectacle that those who witnessed never forgot it.