‘Mr. Mountford has gone to his own room. I was to tell you he has something to do.’
‘Oh, papa has always an excuse!’ cried Rose; ‘he never comes here in the evening. I am sure this room is far nicer, and we are far nicer, than sitting there all by himself among those musty books. And he never reads them even! he puts on his dressing-gown and sits at his ease——’
‘Hush, you silly child! When a gentleman comes to be papa’s age he can’t be expected to care for the company of girls, even when they are his own. I will take my work and sit with him by-and-by. You must not give your cousin reason to think that you are undutiful to papa.’
‘Oh, never mind!’ said Rose; ‘Mr. Heathcote, come, and be on my side against mamma. It is so seldom we have gentlemen staying here—indeed, there are very few gentlemen in the county—there are daughters, nothing but daughters, in most of the houses. And mamma has promised us a dance whenever we could get enough men. I want her to give it while you are here.’
‘While I am here; but you don’t suppose I am a dancing man?’
‘You can dance, I am sure,’ said Rose. ‘I can see it in your face; and then you would make acquaintance with all the neighbours. It would be dreadful when you come to live here after our time if you do not know a soul. You must make acquaintance with everybody; and it would be far more fun to have a ball than a quantity of dreary dinner-parties. Do come here and be on my side against mamma!’
‘How can I be against my kind kinswoman,’ he said laughing, ‘who has taken me in and received me so graciously, though I belong to the other branch? That would be ingratitude of the basest sort.’
‘Then you must be against me,’ said Rose.
‘That would be impossible!’ he said, with another laugh; and drew his chair close to the table and threw himself into the discussion. Rose’s bright little countenance lighted up, her blue eyes shone, her cheeks glowed. She got a piece of paper and a pencil, and began to reckon up who could be invited. ‘The men first,’ she said, with the deepest gravity, furtively applying her pencil to her lips to make it mark the blacker as in old school-room days; ‘the men must go down first, for we are always sure of plenty of girls—but you cannot have a dance without men. First of all, I will put down you. You are one to start with—Mr. Heathcote Mountford; how funny it is to have a gentleman of the same name, who is not papa!’
‘Ah! that is because you never had a brother!’ said Mrs. Mountford, with a sigh; ‘it never seemed at all strange to us at home. I beg your pardon, I am sure, Mr. Heathcote; of course it would have interfered with you; but for girls not to have a brother is sad for them, poor things! It always makes a great deal of difference in a girl’s life.’