“I have never been otherwise than sincere with you,” Frederic said, honestly; “I had thought of going to the levee alone, as a possible method of whiling away an idle evening. If you will allow me to accompany you thither, I shall be gratified—shall derive actual pleasure from the motley scene. It will not be the only time you and I have studied varieties of physiognomy and character in a mixed assembly. Do you recollect the hops at the Rockbridge Alum Springs?”
“I do,” replied Rosa, laconically and very soberly.
He thought she suppressed a sigh in saying it. She was a warm-hearted little creature with all her vagaries, and he was less inclined to reject her unobtrusive sympathy than if a more sedate or prudent person had proffered it.
It was certain he could not have selected a more entertaining associate for that evening. She amused him in spite of the painful recollections revived by their intercourse. She did not pass unobserved in the dense crowd that packed the lower floor of the White House. Her face, all glee and sparkle, the varied music of her soft Southern tongue, her becoming attire—were, in turn, the subject of eulogistic comment among the most distinguished connoisseurs present. It was not probable that these should all be unheard by her cavalier, or that he should listen to them with profound indifference.
He was astonished, therefore, when she protested that she had had “enough of it,” and proposed that they should extricate themselves from the press and go home. It was contrary to the commonly received tenets of his sex respecting the insatiable nature of feminine vanity, that she should weary so soon of adulation which would have rendered a light head dizzy. Mrs. Mason was not ready to leave the halls of mirth. She had met scores of old friends, and was having a “nice, sociable time” in a corner, while Mrs. Cunningham had “not begun to enjoy herself, looking at the queer people and the superb dresses.”
Of course, they had no objection to their wilful relative doing as she liked, but did not conceal their amazement at her bad taste.
“Take the carriage, dear! You'll find it around out there somewhere,” drawled the easy-tempered aunt. “And let Thomas come back for us. He will be in time an hour from this.”
“Would it be an unpardonable infraction of etiquette if we were to walk home?” questioned Rosa of Mr. Chilton, when they were out of Mr. Mason's hearing. “The night is very mild.”
“But your feet. Are they not too lightly shod for the pavement?”
“I left a pair of thick gaiters in the dressing-room, which I wore in the carriage.”