May turned to the dame for the answer.
“While this sort of fun goes on I do not think we can be better off than where we are,” answered the dame.
“I will see you again,” said Harry, who admired the manner in which she obeyed her friends’ wishes, and hesitated to repeat his request. “Perhaps my sister would like to send a message to our cousins. Pray tell them that she regards them with the same feeling she has always done.”
“I will gladly carry the message to the Miss Pembertons,” said May.
“Thank you,” said Harry. “I will try to get my sister to give it you herself,” and he tore himself away.
“What a lovely creature that little girl with the blue eyes has grown into,” Harry thought to himself. “I remember she was a sweet child, and now she is as near perfection as I can fancy any human being. I wonder if I should think so if I saw her dressed as a young lady in a ball room. Yes, I am sure of it—any dress would become her. I must get Julia to see her. And yet I do not know, she might possibly say something I should not like. Maiden May, what a pretty name. She spoke, too, of living with our cousins. Can she be their servant? Yet she does not speak or look like one. Her manner and tone of voice is perfectly that of a young lady. But I must not think too much about her, or I shall forget what I have to do.”
Harry hurried on, trying to collect his thoughts, which the vision of Maiden May had scattered.
He had now to set a troop of boys running races, now to arrange another rustic dance.
It was some time before he made his way back to the house, where his friend Headland had got before him, and was now engaged with Julia and other friends in arranging the sets to be formed by ladies and gentlemen, and in which some of the daughters of the upper class of tenantry and shopkeepers would take their place.
Harry excused himself from leading out a partner on the plea that he had so many duties to perform, and before long he again found himself approaching the spot where Adam and his wife were standing. As he did so he saw a man come up to them and make a low bow, beginning to speak to May, at which she turned away with a look of annoyance, not unmingled with scorn, while she put her arm into that of the dame.