The Ball.
Paddy was dressed first, because Eileen did her hair for her, and when
she was ready she surveyed herself with critical eyes in the long pier
glass.
“I rather think Paddy will surprise them to-night,” she remarked.
“They’ll be coming round and asking her where her snub nose and sallow
skin are. I shall say, ‘They are still there, good people, but don’t
you observe that her hair has entirely effaced everything but itself?’”
In truth she was right, for it would be hard to find lovelier hair than
Paddy’s, and under Eileen’s skillful handling it had, indeed,
overshadowed everything else.
It was of a rich auburn tint, as fine as silk, and had a way of waving
and curling in thick masses, with a beautiful natural wave, when given
sufficient freedom. Paddy, in her perpetual haste, usually spoilt it by
twisting it too tightly, but to-night Eileen had given the rich coils
full play, and they curled themselves lovingly round Paddy’s pretty
forehead and slender neck in a way that somehow concealed her failings
by drawing all attention to themselves. And then, too, she had the fine
eyes of her country, and to-night they sparkled and danced in a way
that was wholly bewitching. “Daddy,” she called through into her
father’s room, “you just won’t know me I look so beautiful. You never
thought I could look even pretty, did you?—but just wait till you see!”
Then she danced into his dressing-room, and swept him a low courtesy.
“Begorra!” exclaimed the old General delightedly, “you’ll take ’em all
by storm yet. Get out your scouts, young men, and lay your plan of
action, for there’s a prize to be captured and carried off to-night,
and no mistake.”
“No, there isn’t, then, daddy, for I don’t mean to be captured nor
carried off, nor anything else, as long as I can just stay here at The
Ghan House with you and the motherkins,” and she threw her arms round
the old soldier’s neck and hugged him until he cried out that he would
be suffocated.
Then she smilingly surveyed her crumpled lace.
“I guess we’ll get into trouble if we don’t mind!” she remarked. “See
what you’ve done to my lace!”
“What _I’ve_ done, indeed! I should like to know who had a finger in
that pie beside yourself.”
Paddy smoothed her lace and went downstairs a little thoughtfully, to
see if Jack had come across yet from the rectory.
She found him standing in the hall, and when he saw her he exclaimed,
“Is that you, Paddy?—is that really you?”
“Yes,” with a little nod, “it’s really me. You’ve always been at great
pains to impress upon me that I’m hopelessly plain, Jack. Perhaps, now,
you’ll have the politeness to own you were wrong,” and she looked up at
him with her brilliant smile.
“I don’t somehow feel sure that it’s you yet, though,” he answered.
“Where did you get all that hair from?”
“It’s been there all along, but I couldn’t be bothered to do it
properly, so to-night Eileen did it.”
“Isn’t she dressed yet?”
“No; so I took the opportunity of coming down to be admired before I am
outshone.” She tripped across the hall and stood where the full light
of the lamps shone upon her, throwing back her small head triumphantly,
and unconsciously striking an attitude full of grace and piquancy.
There was a dark wainscoting round the hall, and Jack saw with no small
surprise that, thrown into relief by the dark background, her dainty
dress becoming her perfectly, she formed a really lovely picture. His
admiration showed in his eyes, and suddenly a beautiful flush spread
over her somewhat colourless cheeks.
“That’s the first time you’ve ever seen anything in me but a
harum-scarum tom-boy, isn’t it, Jack?” she said, and there was an
unaccountable note of wistfulness in her tone. “Look again—Eileen will
be here directly, and then you will forget.”
A light footstep sounded at the top of the stairs, and instantly she
dashed her hand across her eyes as if to drive away some unwelcome
recollection, and laughing gayly, called:
“Come along, Eileen; I’ve been playing your _rôle_ of family beauty for
nearly ten minutes, just to see how it felt, but ‘harum-scarum Paddy’
suits me best, and you’ve come just at the right time to save me from a
total collapse.”
Jack took a step forward to the staircase, with all his soul in his
eyes, as Eileen came slowly down, saying:
“Don’t be silly, Paddy. I’m sure the first place is yours to-night.”
Jack said nothing, but he thought he had never in all his life seen
anything so beautiful as Eileen Adair. She wore white only, and the
fluffy, lacy style that was so becoming to Paddy was replaced in her
dress by an almost severe simplicity, that suited perfectly her
Madonna-like sweetness, and deep, calm, wonderful eyes.
“Well, we won’t let Jack be a second Paris, anyhow,” laughed Paddy,
“because he would not give a perfectly unbiased judgment, being already
prejudiced. But where are the aunties?” turning to the drawing-room,
from which came a sound of voices; “are they here yet?”
“Rather!” exclaimed Jack impressively. “You just see! I tell you, you
and Eileen are not in it,” and they all crossed the hall together.
Paddy threw open the drawing-room door with a flourish, and, as they
entered, exclaimed, “Behold!—not the meeting of the two great monarchs
of old, but the meeting of the reigning beauties of Omeath to-day.”
Then she darted forward toward the two little ladies, crying, “Oh, you
look just lovely!—lovely! I really must hug you.”
“Oh! my dear! my dear!” they both gasped, and Miss Jane got quickly
behind her chair, while Miss Mary fluttered across the room and
ensconced herself behind the sofa.
“What’s the matter!” cried Paddy. “I won’t touch you—I promise I won’t.
Do come out and let us have a full view.”
After thoroughly reassuring themselves that she really meant it, Miss
Jane stepped forward, and Miss Mary timidly followed suit, and then
began a general criticising and admiring all round, in which Jack
joined in his usual lively fashion.
“Aunties, don’t you think Cinderella’s Fairy Godmother must have been
here with her magic wand!” he exclaimed, “and turned Paddy into as much
of a beauty as she could possibly get her? I shall take care not to be
dancing with her at twelve o’clock, because I feel quite certain on the
first stroke of the hour she will become herself again, and her hair
will be coming down, her dress torn, and she will look just like she
does in ordinary life.”
“Then we shall only be better paired than we were before,” retorted
Paddy, “because you do not look in the least like a prince. Aunt Mary,
you are lovely!” running on with eager warmth. “Oh! I should like to
know what you looked like at my age.”
“She was very beautiful, my dear,” said Aunt Jane proudly. “I always
dressed her for balls myself.”
“Oh; no, not quite that, sister,” murmured Miss Mary, in anxious
self-deprecation; “just pretty, perhaps, sister, but that was all.”
“No; beautiful,” asserted Miss Jane again, in a voice that allowed no
contradiction.
“And you the same, Aunt Jane, I expect!” said Eileen, smiling.
“No, I was more like Paddy here. I knew that my chief charm lay in my
expression and spirits, and so I did not worry any more than she about
my appearance and clothes.”
“Do I understand you to say you didn’t bother to wear clothes, Aunt
Jane?” asked Jack in solemn surprise, at which the two little ladies
looked horrified and Paddy and Eileen laughed, and just then the
General, who had at last managed to get into his extra-special best
dress suit, bustled into the room.
“Jack, my boy,” he said, taking the younger man’s arm, “take my advice
and don’t let yourself get stout. If you only knew what I have gone
through, trying to get into these clothes!—I wonder I didn’t have a fit
of apoplexy! There! I do indeed! And five years ago they fitted me
perfectly. Bedad! I’m not sure now the coat won’t split all up the back
before the evening is half over, and I’m afraid to see if I can sit
down for fear it might result in my not being able to go to the ball at
all.”
“We wouldn’t go without you, daddy, anyhow,” exclaimed Paddy. “Don’t
the aunties look lovely? Aren’t you just dreadfully in love with both
of them? I’m sure mother will be jealous before the evening is over.”
“Certainly I am; I always have been! Didn’t you know that, you minx! If
they hadn’t both been so obdurate long ago all sorts of things might
have happened, eh, Jane?” and the old man laughed heartily. “Do you
remember boxing my ears under the mulberry tree one Sunday afternoon?
Faith! you were a vixen,” and he laughed so heartily that Mrs Adair
hurried forward with anxious reminders concerning his clothes.
“They weren’t made to laugh in, daddy,” cried Paddy delightedly, “and I
feel a little like that about mine, so we’d better keep together, and
remind each other occasionally, hadn’t we?”
Carriage wheels were heard then, and the roomy omnibus engaged to carry
them all to the Lodge drove up to the door.
The two little ladies got in first, holding their new silk dresses very
high above their ankles, and carefully folding shawls all round them
before they ventured to sit down, in case there was a speck of dirt on
the seats. Then Mrs Adair and Eileen, whose eyes were shining already
with a new happiness; and lastly Paddy and Jack hoisted the General up
between them, so that there was the least possible strain upon his
clothes.
Then they set off amid the usual sparring between Jack and Paddy, a
gentle sort of purring from the two little ladies, and sundry loud
guffaws from the General. Only Eileen and her mother were silent—the
one lost in a dear dreamland of delicious anticipation, and the other
anxiously, watching with vague misgivings in her heart.
There were no misgivings for Eileen that night. The last week had held
so many dear moments, her mind was only too ready to be blinded to all
else and wait dreamily for her joy.
But a mother’s eyes see so much, and Mrs Adair knew her world—likewise
little Miss Mary, who, in the midst of her soft purring, now and then
threw wistful glances toward Eileen’s shining eyes and beautiful face.
Mrs Blake and Lawrence received their guests in the large
billiard-room, which had been cleared for dancing, and by the time the
party from The Ghan House arrived quite a large number had already
collected. When General Adair led Miss Jane into the room with
old-fashioned courtly grace, followed closely by Mrs Adair and Miss
Mary, and the young folks at their heels, there was quite a little stir
among the chatting groups. For though they did not entertain in a big
way themselves, General and Mrs Adair were known and respected
throughout the county, while the two girls were favourites wherever
they went; and, as has already been said, the little ladies from the
rectory were almost an institution.
When Mrs Blake and Lawrence had shaken hands with them, others
clustered round eagerly, but Lawrence had time to look hard into
Eileen’s eyes, and murmur, “Don’t forget the first dance is mine,”
before she was carried off by other friends. Paddy and Jack were almost
immediately seized upon by Kathleen and Doreen, who were in great glee
over their own coming-out.
“How does it feel?” asked Jack. “Anything like a snail squeezing out of
a shell, or like falling out of a tree?”
“Neither,” they exclaimed; “more like being crowned queen.”
“And expecting everyone to bow down to you,” added Doreen gayly. “I
hope you are prepared to be finely ordered about?”
“That won’t be anything new. It seems to me I have been at yours and
Kathleen’s beck and call ever since I can remember—to say nothing of
Paddy and Eileen, who treat me as if I was only created to wait on
them. I suppose I shall be expected to lead off the ball with one of
you!” feigning disgust.
“What impudence!” they cried together. “Here are we impressing upon you
that in future you are to treat us with great respect, and you start
off by coolly claiming one of the greatest favours we can confer.”
“Not at all,” quoth Jack. “I merely await your orders. I know that one
of you will expect me to have the first dance with you, and all I ask
is, which?”
“Then you are just wrong,” said Doreen, tossing her head. “I wouldn’t
lead the dance off with you—if—if—my kingdom depended upon it.”
“Well, I never asked you to,” wickedly. “You shouldn’t be in such a
hurry to decline before you’re asked.”
“You wretch,” with a laugh. “Well, I’ll just take you to pay you out.
There—write ‘Jack’ on the first line at once,” and she handed him her
programme.
Jack took it readily, for of the two he preferred Doreen, the younger,
and he calmly proceeded to write his name faintly the whole way down
the cardboard.
“Goodness!” she cried, when he gave it back to her. “Look at this,
Paddy! Did you ever see such cool impudence?”
“They’re nearly all promised to me,” said Paddy calmly, “so it’s of no
consequence, and now we can both treat him as we like. He’ll be very
useful if we get partners we don’t like, and, of course, he can’t dance
with anyone else.”
“No of course not—what fun,” and Doreen and Paddy went of gayly, while
Jack sought Eileen.
“He’s put the supper-dance very black, so he means that,” said Doreen.
“Why isn’t he having it with you as usual?”
“I guess he thought he’d like a change,” Paddy replied loyally, “and
quite time,” and Doreen was satisfied.
The next moment a voice in Paddy’s ear, with a ring in it that she
could not well mistake, said quietly:
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you, Miss Adair.”
“Then you must be very blind,” she answered brightly, “for in my own
estimation I’ve been very much _en évidence_ all the time so far. But
perhaps you did not recognise me?”
“Perhaps,” with a little smile, and Ted Masterman surveyed her in that
quiet, masterly way of his, that always made Paddy feel rebellious,
with the most unmistakable admiration written on his face.
“You look like the Great Mogul,” she exclaimed, “criticising me in that
calmly superior way. It’s all my own hair; don’t be alarmed.”
“It’s the most beautiful hair I have ever seen,” he said, in a quiet
way that could not possibly offend her. “I always thought it was a pity
you did not treat it better.”
“Then you had no business to think about it at all, or to criticise
me.”
“A cat may look at a queen. How many dances are you going to give me,
now I have risked losing my berth to be here!”
“Perhaps two,” hiding a twinkle in her eyes.
“More,” he answered.
“No,” resolutely.
“I say _more_.”
“I don’t care what you say.”
“I am going to have my dances all the same,” and he gained possession
of her programme.
“I’ve a great mind to cancel the supper-dance, and not have any with
you,” trying to look annoyed.
“Now you look angry,” he said; “but don’t be cross to-night. After
to-morrow I shall not trouble you again for a long time, so you can
well afford to be magnanimous.”
Paddy evidently agreed, for she took back her programme and only
feigned a slight frown when she saw his name on four different lines.
Without meaning to be unkind, the thought, “perhaps it will vex Jack,”
entered into her mind and stayed there.
And so the game at cross-purposes went on.