After a due amount of dining and dressing, the former performed by the male and the latter by the feminine portion of the gathered social elements, ‘The great Terpsichorean event, which marked this most harmonious Turf reunion, was inaugurated with éclat,’ as the editor of the Yass Standard (in happy ignorance of the illegal arrangement which divers magnates, chiefly being Justices of the Peace, were at that very hour transacting) described it in the following Monday’s issue.
All the bachelors, and not a few of the married men, had quarters at the Budgeree Hotel, so that they had no unnecessary fatigue to undergo, but were enabled to present themselves in the grand ballroom of that imposing building nearly as soon as it was ascertained that the Rockley contingent, which apparently combined everybody’s favourite partner, had arrived.
The brass band included a wandering minstrel from the metropolis, whose aid, both instrumentally and in the selection of dance music, proved truly valuable. The invitations, owing to the liberal views of Mr. Rockley, had been comprehensive, taking in all the townspeople who could by any chance have felt aggrieved at being left out.
The ball was opened by a quadrille, in which Mrs. Rockley and Hampden took part, while Rockley, with deferential demeanour, led out Mrs. Effingham, who consented on that occasion only to revive the recollections of her youth. Mrs. Snowden and Argyll, Hamilton and Rosamond Effingham, with other not less distinguished personages, ‘assisted’ at this opening celebration.
After this ceremonious commencement the first waltz took place, in which Wilfred found himself anticipated as to a dance with Christabel Rockley, who, with an utterly bewildering look, regretted that she was engaged to Bob Clarke. That heroic personage swiftly whirled away with the goddess in his arms, leaving Wilfred more annoyed than he liked to confess, and divided in his resolutions whether to stay at home and work austerely, avoiding the lighter amusements, or to buy the best horse in the Benmohr stud, train him at The Chase, and ride against Bob Clarke for his life at the next meeting. He had called up sufficient presence of mind to place his name again on Miss Christabel’s very popular card, rather low down, it is true, but still available for a favourite waltz, in which Fred Churbett had promised to assist with his cornet, and Hamilton with his Sax-horn, a new instrument, believed to be the combination of all sweet and sonorous sounds possible to the trumpet tribe.
But all inappropriate thoughts were driven out by the next partner, a striking-looking girl, to whom he was introduced by Mr. Rockley, very properly doing duty as chief steward.
This young lady’s name was stated to be Vera Fane, with great clearness of intonation. He further volunteered the information that she was the daughter of his old friend, Dr. Fane, and (in what was meant to be a whisper) ‘as nice a girl as ever you met in your life.’
The young lady smiled and blushed, but without discomposure, at this evidence of the high value at which she was rated.
‘Rather too good to be true, don’t you think?’ she said, with a frank yet modest air. ‘I ought to declare myself much honoured, and all the rest of it. But you know Mr. Rockley’s warm-hearted way of talking, and I really think he believes every word of it. He has known me from a child. But I apologise, and we’ll say no more about it, please. Very good racing there seems to have been. I was so sorry, in despair I may say, to miss the steeplechase.’
‘Then you only came in to-day?’ asked Wilfred. ‘How was that? I didn’t think any lady in the district could have forgone the excitement. It seems to rank with the miracle plays of the Middle Ages.’