The musicians struck up a lively tune, and then Rhoda saw that there were several gay young officers in the room. They had come, by the squire’s invitation, from the neighbouring garrison town, and were evidently prepared to enjoy themselves.
She was scarcely surprised to see two or three of them bearing down upon Helen, bent on securing her for a partner. She heard their entreaties, and Helen’s denials—very prettily uttered. But at that moment an old friend of Farmer Farren’s crossed the room, and gave Rhoda a hearty greeting. Then followed a score of questions about herself and her parents, and in the midst of them Rhoda heard Helen’s voice saying—
“Only one dance, Rhoda; you’ll forgive me, I know.”
Rhoda started, and half rose from her seat. Such a distressed and angry look crossed her face that the old farmer was astonished. Helen had gone off on her partner’s arm. It was too late to call her back. She must take it as quietly as she could, and avoid making a scene.
“Who is that lovely young woman? Any relation of yours, Miss Farren?” asked the old man by her side.
“My cousin,” Rhoda answered.
Several persons near were listening for her reply. Rhoda hoped that her questioner would drop the subject, but he did not.
“Let me see; didn’t I know her when she was a child in your father’s house?”
“Very likely,” Rhoda said. “She used to live with us when she was a little girl.”
“And did I hear that she had married?” he persisted.