XIII. A DANCE ON THE LAWN.
Never before bad a dinner so perfect been served at Ouselcroft. But, in the opinion of the distinguished chef, sufficient justice was not done to it. He was very particular in his inquiries of Norris and Higgins, both of whom were in attendance, and discovered that some of his best dishes had been neglected by the guest for whom he had specially prepared them.
This was very vexatious, but Zephyrus endeavoured to console himself by reflecting that Lord Courland was in love, and about to be married, either of which misfortunes, as he termed them, was sufficient to account for his lordship's want of appetite.
However, the repast was not wasted, but appeared again in the servants' hall, where quite as large a party sat down to it as had done in the dining-room; and it would seem they were far better judges, since the very recherché dishes that were previously neglected were now completely devoured.
As it happened to be a lovely moonlight night, and very warm, Mrs. Calverley took out the whole of the guests upon the lawn, and they had not been there long when Captain Danvers suggested a dance.
With the drawing-room windows left wide open, it was found that the piano sounded quite loud enough; Lady Thicknesse, who was a very good musician, immediately sat down and played a waltz.
Lord Courland and Teresa, with two other couples, were soon footing it lightly on the smooth turf, and a very agreeable impromptu little dance was got up.
But this was not all. At the instance of Lord Courland, a servants' dance was got up at the farther end of the lawn, near the two cedars of Lebanon already described.