The expected visitors had arrived on the Tuesday--Lady Hampton, radiant with expected victory; Elinor, silent, thoughtful, and more gentle than ever, and consequently more pleasing.
Lady Hampton was delighted with the idea of the ball.
"You must make a bold stroke for a husband on that evening, Elinor," she said. "You shall have a superb dress, and I shall quite expect you to receive and accept an offer from Sir Oswald."
Elinor Rocheford raised her eyes. There was something wistful in their expression.
"Oh, aunt," she said, "I like the captain so much better!"
Lady Hampton did not lose her good humor--Elinor was not the first refractory girl she had brought to her senses.
"Never mind about liking the captain, my dear; that is only natural. He is not in love with you. I can see through the whole business. If Darrell Court goes to Miss Darrell, he will marry her. He can marry no girl without money, because he is, I know, over head and ears in debt.
Major Penryn was speaking of him to-day. The only way to prevent his marriage with Miss Darrell is for you to take Sir Oswald yourself."
Elinor"s face flushed.
Lady Hampton certainly understood the art of evoking the worst feelings.
Jealousy, envy, and dislike stirred faintly in the gentle heart of her niece.
"I hope you will do your very best to win Sir Oswald"s affections,"
continued Lady Hampton, "for I should not like to see Darrell Court fall into the hands of that proud girl."
"Nor should I," a.s.sented Miss Rocheford.
The evening of the ball arrived at last, and Lady Hampton stood like a fairy G.o.dmother in Elinor"s dressing-room, superintending the toilet that was to work such wonders. Lady Hampton herself looked very imposing in her handsome dress of black velvet and point lace, with diamond ornaments. Elinor"s dress was a triumph of art. Her fresh, fair, gentle loveliness shone to perfection, aided by her elaborate costume of white silk and white lace, trimmed with green and silver leaves. The ornaments were all of silver--both fringe and leaves; the headdress was a green wreath with silver flowers. Nothing could have been more elegant and effective. There was a gentle flush on the fair face and a light in the blue eyes.
"That will do, Elinor," said Lady Hampton, complacently. "Your dress is perfection. I have no fear now--you will have no rival."
Perhaps Lady Hampton had never disliked Pauline Darrell more than on that night, for the magnificent beauty of the girl had never been so apparent. Sir Oswald had given his niece _carte blanche_ in respect to preparation for the ball, but she had not at first taken sufficient interest in the matter to send to London, as he wished, for a dress.
Later on she had gone to the large wardrobe, where the treasures acc.u.mulated by the Ladies Darrell lay. Such shining treasures of satin, velvet, silk, cashmere, and such profusion of laces and ornaments were there! She selected a superb costume--a magnificent amber brocade, embroidered with white flowers, gorgeous, beautiful, artistic. It was a dress that had been made for some former Lady Darrell.
How well it became her! The amber set off her dark beauty as a golden frame does a rich picture. The dress required but little alteration; it was cut square, showing the white, stately, graceful neck, and the sleeves hung after the Grecian fashion, leaving the round, white arms bare. The light shining upon the dress changed with every movement; it was as though the girl was enveloped in sunbeams. Every lady present envied that dress, and p.r.o.nounced it to be gorgeous beyond comparison.
Pauline"s rich curls of dark hair were studded with diamond stars, and a diamond necklace clasped her white throat--this was Sir Oswald"s present. Her artistic taste had found yet further scope; for she had enhanced the beauty of her dress by the addition of white daphnes shrouded in green leaves.
Sir Oswald looked at her in admiration--her magnificent beauty, her queenly figure, her royal grace and ease of movement, her splendid costume, all impressed him. From every fold of her shining dress came a rich, sweet, subtle perfume; her usually pale face had on it an unwonted flush of delicate rose-leaf color.
"If she would but be like that sweet Elinor!" thought Sir Oswald. "I could not wish for a more beautiful mistress for Darrell Court."
She stood by his side while he received his guests, and her dignified ease delighted him.
"Had she been some Eastern queen," he thought, "her eccentricities would have hurt no one. As it is----" and Sir Oswald concluded his sentence by a grave shake of the head.
The captain, pleased with Miss Rocheford"s graceful loveliness, had been amusing himself by paying her some very choice compliments, and she was delighted with them.
"If Sir Oswald were only like him!" she thought; and Aubrey Langton, meeting the timid, gentle glance, said to himself that he must be careful--he had no wish to win the girl"s heart--he should be quite at a loss to know what to do with it.
When he saw Pauline his courage almost failed him.
"How am I to ask that magnificent girl to marry me?" he said.
Sir Oswald had expressed a wish that Aubrey and Pauline would open the ball; it would give people an idea of what he wished, he thought, and prevent other gentlemen from "turning her head" by paying her any marked attention. Yet he knew how difficult it would be for any one to win Pauline"s regard. She made no objection when he expressed his wish to her, but she did not look particularly pleased.
Captain Langton understood the art of dancing better perhaps than the art of war; he was perfect in it--even Pauline avowed it. With him dancing was the very poetry of motion. The flowers, the lights, the sweet, soft music, the fragrance, the silvery sound of laughter, the fair faces and shining jewels of the ladies, all stirred and warmed Pauline"s imagination; they brought bright and vivid fancies to her, and touched the poetical beauty-loving soul. A glow came over her face, a light into her proud, dark eyes, her lips were wreathed in smiles--no one had ever seen Pauline so beautiful before.
"You enjoy this, do you not?" said Aubrey Langton, as he watched her beautiful face.
"I shall do so," she replied, "very much indeed;" and at what those words implied the captain"s courage fell to zero.
He saw how many admiring eyes followed her; he knew that all the gentlemen in the room were envying him his position with Miss Darrell.
He knew that, pretty as some of the girls were, Pauline outshone them as the sun outshines the stars; and he knew that she was queen of the _fete_--queen of the ball.
"This is the first time you have met many of the county people, is it not?" he asked.
She looked round indifferently.
"Yes, it is the first time," she replied.
"Do you admire any of the men? I know how different your taste is from that of most girls. Is there any one here who has pleased you?"
She laughed.
"I cannot tell," she answered; "you forget this is the first dance. I have had no opportunity of judging."
"I believe that I am jealous already," he observed.
She looked at him; her dark eyes made his heart beat, they seemed to look through him.
"You are what?" she asked. "Captain Langton, I do not understand."
He dared not repeat the words.
"I wish," he said, with a deep sigh, "that I had all the talent and all the wealth in the world."
"For what reason?" she inquired.
"Because you would care for me then."
"Because of your talent and wealth!" she exclaimed. "No, that I should not."
"But I thought you admired talent so much," he said, in surprise.
"So I do; but mere talent would never command my respect, nor mere wealth."
"The two together might," he suggested.
"No. You would not understand me, Captain Langton, were I to explain.
Now this dance is over, and I heard you engage Miss Rocheford for the next."