"Aw, Miss Winship, really, y'know, you have no rivals," said my partner.
I hadn't supposed him clever enough to guess what I was thinking.
"Oh, yes I have--one," I said; "isn't there somewhere here a real live Lord?"
But just then we joined Meg, and it was she who pointed out to me "The Earl of Strathay--the Twelfth Earl of Strathay," in a whisper of comical respect and deference.
He wasn't very impressive--just a thin, pale young fellow with a bulbous head, big above and small below; but I was glad to do Meg a service; for of course she wished to meet him, and of course Lord Strathay was presented to the beautiful Miss Winship and her chaperons.
Then I danced with him. I felt as if I were amusing a nice boy; he hardly came to my shoulder. I asked him if he liked America.
"Like is a feeble word to voice one's impressions of the land of lovely women."
And then he looked at me. Oh, he did admire me immensely, and I took quite a fancy to him in turn, though it seemed pathetic that such a poor little fellow--I don't believe he's twenty-one--should carry the weight of his title. I danced with his cousin, too, a Mr. Poultney; and wherever I went Strathay's eyes followed me wistfully.
Meg danced with Strathay and amused me by her elation. She hadn't really recovered from it to-day.
To-day! Blessed to-day! Lord Strathay's only an Earl; to-day there came to me--Ned! Oh, this has been the gladdest, most provoking day of my life, for I had only a moment with him.
It was Mrs. Baker's "afternoon," and we had a good many callers; the fame of my beauty has spread. They gazed furtively at me as they talked and sipped their tea, and it was all very stupid until--oh, I didn't know how perturbed, how unhappy I'd been, until--I glanced up for a word with the General, who came late, and behind her I saw--Him. He came to me as if there were no one else in the room.
Ah, I have been unhappy! I have known that he would try to keep away from me. Useless! Useless to fight with love! It's too strong for us. At sight of him joy like a fire flashed through my veins.
But there were my cousins; there was Meg--she looked at him impatiently, I fancied, as she has sometimes looked at John. Poor John, it didn't need her surveillance to break his feeble hold upon my heart. And there they stayed. They wouldn't go. They stayed, and talked, while I shivered and grew hot with fear and gladness and the excitement of his presence; they talked--of all senseless topics--about the ball.