"What makes her do it?"
"Good-nature; she says people like to come because she has a big house, and can give them a good supper, and why should she not?" and the girl laughed.
"She is rather a trial in some things. You have no idea how young men fly her. She is so sorry for plain girls that she marches them up, whether they like it or not, and introduces them straight off. I assure you she has carried off my pet partners under my very eyes, and made them dance with lamp-posts and billiard-balls."
"My dear," whispered Lady Lyons in a very discreet whisper, "what does she mean by that? How can a man dance with——?"
"Oh! do you really not understand?" said Grace, impatiently; "tall girls and very short ones."
"Oh!" and Lady Lyons drew a very long breath.
No band, no music, and hardly any men. It was going to be a very queer ball, Grace thought. An hour and a half passed in this way. As a rule, people wore gowns that had seen the brunt of the season—no one was very smart except as regarded jewels. A great many people had beautiful diamonds on, and some had good lace, but the majority, knowing what a crowd there would be, had left lace at home.
The band arrived and began playing two or three bars of well-known valses and then stopping. Then, all at once, there was a sudden stream of people, the rooms filled all at once, and dancing began. But only in a limited space; it began all over the large room, three or four circles beginning at once.
The sound of the music, the sight of others doing what she would like to do, filled Grace with despair. She did not know a soul, and nobody looked at her or noticed her in any way. Dance after dance went on, and the girl felt really forlorn—tears of vexation rose in her eyes and nearly overflowed.
Lady Lyons fidgeted.