“Oh, Rob, I am sorry! I forgot all about it. I’ve been so perturbed. Something awful has occurred. You heard about it, of course—”
“No, I didn’t? What on earth,” began the boy anxiously; but so soon as he heard the two words “Rosalind’s dress!” he shrugged his shoulders in contemptuous indifference. “Oh, that! I heard something about it, but I didn’t take much notice. Spilt some ink, didn’t you? What’s the odds if you did? Accidents will happen, and she has a dozen others to choose from. I don’t see anything wrong with the dress. It looks decent enough.”
Peggy followed the direction of his eyes, and caught a glimpse of Rosalind floating past on the arm of a tall soldierly youth. She was sparkling with smiles, and looking as fresh and spotless as on the moment when she had stepped across the threshold of her own room. Neither face nor dress bore any trace of the misfortune of an hour before, and Peggy heaved a sigh of relief as she watched her to and fro.
“Jolly enough, isn’t she? There’s nothing for you to fret about, you see,” said Rob consolingly. “She has forgotten all about it, and the best thing you can do is to follow her example. What would you think of some light refreshment? Let’s go to the dining-room and drown our sorrows in strawberry ice. Then we can have a waltz, and try a vanilla—and a polka, and some lemonade! That’s my idea of enjoying myself. Come along, while you get the chance!—”
“Oh, Rob, you are greedy!” protested Peggy; nevertheless she rose blithely enough, and her eyes began to sparkle with some of their wonted vivacity. There was something strong and reassuring about Robert’s presence; he looked upon things in such an eminently sensible, matter-of-fact way, that one was ashamed to give way to moods and tenses in his company.
Peggy began to feel that there was still some possibility of happiness in life, and on her way to the door she came face to face with Lady Darcy, who reassured her still further by smiling as amiably as if nothing had happened.
“Well, dear, enjoying yourself? Got plenty of partners?” Then in a whispered aside, “The dress looks all right! Such a clever suggestion of yours. Dear, dear, what a fright we had!” and she swept away, leaving an impression of beauty, grace, and affability which the girl was powerless to resist. When Lady Darcy chose to show herself at her best, there was a charm about her which subjugated all hearts, and, from the moment that the sweet tired eyes smiled into hers, Peggy Saville forgot her troubles and tripped away to eat strawberry ices, and dance over the polished floor with a heart as light as her heels.
One party is very much like another. The room may be larger or smaller, the supper more or less substantial, but the programme is the same in both cases, and there is little to be told about even the grandest of its kind. Somebody wore pink; somebody wore blue; somebody fell down on the floor in the middle of the lancers, which are no longer the stately and dignified dance of yore, but an ungainly romp more befitting a kitchen than a ballroom; somebody went in to supper twice over, and somebody never went at all, but blushed unseen in a corner, thinking longingly of turkey, trifle, and crackers; and then the carriages began to roll up to the door, brothers and sisters paired demurely together, stammered out a bashful “Enjoyed myself so much! Thanks for a pleasant evening,” and raced upstairs for coats and shawls.
By half-past twelve all the guests had departed except the vicarage party, and the sons and daughters of the old squire who lived close by, who had been pressed to stay behind for that last half-hour which is often the most enjoyable of the whole evening.
Lord and Lady Darcy and the grown-up visitors retired into the drawing-room to regale themselves with sandwiches and ices, and the young people stormed the supper-room, interrupted the servants in their work of clearing away the good things, seated themselves indiscriminately on floor, chair, or table, and despatched a second supper with undiminished appetite. Then Esther mounted the platform where the band had been seated, and played a last waltz, and a very last waltz, and “really the last waltz of all.” The squire’s son played a polka with two fingers, and a great deal of loud pedal, and the fun grew faster and more uproarious with every moment. Even Rosalind threw aside young ladylike affectations and pranced about without thinking of appearances, and when at last the others left the room to prepare for the drive home she seized Peggy’s arm in eager excitement.