“I hope we shall continue to deserve such a good character. Strangers do generally approve of us, and there is no doubt we are always delighted to see them. I suppose we ought to make a move, Mrs. Blount, I see Richard looking out anxiously for me. We must all go and thank Claude Clinton if he isn’t dead with fatigue. We owe a great deal to him.”
“That we do,” said Sheila, naïvely, “he told me he had been hard at work since daylight, arranging thousands of things. Poor fellow! I quite pitied him. I was nearly offering to help with the supper—I am supposed to be clever in that line.”
“You might have come off as well as the girl who volunteered to take the parlourmaid’s place when her sister was short of one at a big dinner, and afterwards married a baronet with ten thousand a year, who thought she said ‘Sherry, sir?’ so nicely!”
“I see Claude Clinton over there,” interposed Blount, who thought the situation was becoming critical. “He’ll be fast asleep if we don’t go and pelt him with congratulations. Say something nice to him, Sheila!”
“That I will,” said she, with effusion, “I quite love him for his kind-heartedness.”
“You’re not the only grateful one,” said Miss Claremont, “but you’ll have to wait your turn. Dick must make a speech, and we’ll all say Amen.”
“I’ll do anything if you’ll come home,” said that gentleman. “You girls would stay till daylight, I believe. Claude, my boy! come here and be publicly thanked. These ladies have constituted themselves a deputation and wish to assure you that this is the best ball they ever were at in their lives; that it wouldn’t have been half as good but for you; that they will be everlastingly grateful for the perfect arrangements you have made. Miss Maguire can’t express her feelings in words, but is most anxious to—”
“Oh! Mr. Dereker!” cried Sheila, blushing to the roots of her hair, “pray don’t—Oh!”
“Don’t interrupt. She’s most anxious to say ‘Amen.’”
“Amen!” said Sheila, gravely, and evidently much relieved.