“And I really do not know the names of a dozen people.”
“Will you let me give you a lesson?”
“Oh, yes; I shall be much obliged.”
“Then let us stand here, and we will take them as they pass to the supper-room.”
So they stood near the door-way of the ball-room, and he ran on, exchanging constant nods and remarks with the passers by, as the stream flowed to and from the ices and cup, and then rattling on to his partner with the names and short sketches of the characters and peculiarities of his large acquaintance. Mary was very much amused, and had no time to notice the ill-nature of most of his remarks, and he had the wit to keep within what he considered the most innocent bounds.
“There, you know him of course,” he said, as an elderly, soldier-like looking man with a star passed them.
“Yes; at least, I mean I know him by sight. I saw him at the Commemoration at Oxford last year. They gave him an honorary degree on his return from India.”
“At Oxford! Were you present at the Grand Commemoration, then?”
“Yes. The Commemoration Ball was the first public ball I was ever at.”
“Ah! that explains it all. I must have seen you there. I told you we had met before. I was perfectly sure of it.”