DAME ROWTON.
Jacob Short returned the next day to Rowton Heights, and almost
immediately afterwards the excitement and confusion incident to the
great ball began. Many fresh servants were engaged for the occasion; a
string band from London was secured; in short, no expense was spared to
make the occasion a worthy one, and to render the ball as brilliant as
possible. The old ball-room was too magnificent in itself to require much
decoration. The carved oak, which covered it from ceiling to floor, was
re-polished, but the windows were not draped, Nature’s draping of ivy
and old creepers being considered far more effective than anything man
could devise. The ball-room, which was over one hundred feet in length
and thirty feet in breadth, was one of the most celebrated rooms in the
whole county. In the old days, brave knights and fair ladies had held
high revelry here. It was well known also that more than one personage
celebrated in the history of England had figured in the giddy mazes of
the dance in the old room. For years it had been shut up, as misfortune
and even poverty had come to the noble old family who for so many
generations had reigned at Rowton Heights. The occasion, therefore, of
its being re-opened was considered a truly auspicious one, and certainly
Rowton and his wife could not have discovered a more popular way of
entertaining the county than by allowing them to dance once more in the
oak ball-room. It had been long years now since Rowton Heights had so
resounded to mirth and merry-making.
For days before the ball the house was full of eager and expectant
guests. Smart young men from town and the prettiest girls of the
neighbourhood gladly accepted invitations to stay at the Heights. The
host and hostess were seen on this occasion at their very best. Nance,
under her husband’s protecting wing, lost much of her inborn shyness.
Her gentle beauty, her sweet low voice, her affectionate and sympathetic
manner, could not fail to make her a universal favourite. As to Rowton,
he was, as Lady Georgina Strong expressed it, every inch a man of the
world, and, she was wont to add, fascinating at that.
“There is a certain air of mystery about your husband, Nancy,” she said
on one occasion to the young wife, “which much adds to his attractions.
He is delightful, gay, debonair; but watch him, he never talks of
himself. He never tells anybody what he does with his time.”
“With his time?” said Nance, looking slightly startled. “What is there to
tell?”
“I only allude to his mysterious absences,” said Lady Georgina in a light
tone. “Dear me, child, you need not turn so pale—he is with you now. He
always was a favourite, and he will go on being so to his dying day. I
sometimes wish he were a little more of a flirt, however; it would be
glorious to have a flirtation with him. How you open your eyes! You
think because he is your husband——”
“There are few men like Adrian,” said Nance, in a proud tone, “and
he——”—her lips trembled; she could not get out the next words.
“You are a greedy little creature,” said Lady Georgina, who was watching
her closely. “You need not fear that he will ever flirt with anybody but
you. Why, child, he loves you to distraction. I only say that I consider
it scarcely fair of you to keep such a man all to yourself.”
Nancy laughed almost gaily. She did not often laugh. There was an under
vein of sadness in her, which not all her present great happiness could
quite remove.
Sweeping her arm round her waist, Lady Georgina led her into the next
room.
“Come,” she said, “you must not hide your charms. You are too much of the
violet in the shade. Don’t you know that you and your husband are simply
worshipped by everyone in the house?—you and your husband, and that dear
manly boy, Murray.”
“Ah, anyone would love Murray,” said Nancy; and this was true.
The handsome little fellow had added to the merriment of this gay time.
The excitement and pleasure were new to him, and he enjoyed the mirth
and the merry-making all the more in consequence. He and Roy obtruded
themselves on all possible occasions. They made a picturesque addition to
many a lovely scene, and added to the mirth when it was highest, and to
the wit when it flowed most freely.
The great day of the ball at last arrived, and Lady Georgina came over
early to the Heights to help Nance and to hear the latest news.
“Not that there is anything special for me to do,” she said in an almost
vexed voice as she flung herself into a chair in Nancy’s pretty boudoir.
“It seems to me that these are the days for idle hands—at least, where
rich people are concerned. Money commands willing labour. Money banishes
fatigue; money destroys illusions. There was a time when I should have
slaved myself to death to produce results which, by the magic wand of
your money, Nance, can be made ten times more beautiful than any toil of
mine could possibly effect. Well, never mind, you are the wife of the
richest, the gayest, the most delightful man in the whole county. Ah,
and here comes that angel of virtue to speak for himself. How go the
festivities, my friend?” she continued, holding out her hand to Rowton,
who entered the boudoir at that moment.
“Swimmingly,” he replied, seating himself on a sofa near her. “There are
so many people in the house that they entertain one another, and leave
their host and hostess practically with nothing to do. As to the ball, I
do not anticipate a hitch anywhere.”
“There’s one thing left to settle, fortunately for me,” said Lady
Georgina, “and that is this young lady’s dress. I have not yet seen her
in the Dame Rowton costume.”
“No more you have, and no more have I,” said Rowton. “The dress is all
complete, is it not, Nance?”
“I believe so,” she replied, somewhat indifferently. “Hester told me
that a box arrived from Madame Delaroi, of Bond Street, last night.”
“That genius, Delaroi!” cried Lady Georgina. “If Delaroi tries to get up
the antique, then there is certain not to be a flaw in the costume. You
sent her a photograph, did you not?”
“We not only did that,” replied Rowton, “we had her down to examine the
Gainsborough picture for herself.”
“Once again, I must repeat, what will not money effect,” said Lady
Georgina. She tapped her fingers playfully on the ivory handle of a large
fan which she wore at her waist.
“Come,” she said, turning to Nance, “you must put on your dress before
the evening. Let me help you to do it now.”
“I don’t want to,” said Nance, somewhat lazily.
“But, my dear child, you must. Some trifling alteration may be necessary.
Besides, I have come over to make myself useful, and useful I must be
made. You will like to see the modern Dame Rowton when she is rigged
out,” continued Lady Georgina, turning to Rowton. “We will ring for you
when we are ready to show you the exhibition.”
Nance rose to accompany Lady Georgina to her dressing-room. On the way
there she suddenly stopped.
“Now, what is the matter?” asked that good lady.
“Nothing,” said Mrs. Rowton; “only sometimes I am sick of so much dress
and so much money.” There was a wistful and very sad tone in her voice.
“Dear me, child, you would be much more sick if you had not got the
dress and the money,” replied Lady Georgina in her brusque voice. “Don’t
quarrel with your lot, Nancy,” she added. “Take the goods the gods give
you with a thankful heart. There are few women so blessed.”
They entered the dressing-room, and Nancy shut the door.
“I know you are right,” she said, making an effort to recover her
spirits, “and when Adrian is at home there is no woman in all the world
whose heart is more full of thankfulness. Oh, I suffered when he was
away,” she continued. “I earnestly hope he will never leave me again.”
“Poor little girl!” said Lady Georgina.
She paused for a moment, thinking somewhat deeply for her.
“It would be unkind,” she said then, “to counsel you to wish for the
impossible. You must take the sour with the sweet, the dark with the
light, like all the rest of us, Mrs. Rowton. Your husband will certainly
leave you again. He is a wanderer not only by nature, but by heredity.
His father was one of the most celebrated travellers of his day. His
grandfather could never stay three months in the same place, and as to
Adrian, he has been already over the greater part of the world. Yes, my
dear, he will of course, travel again, and leave you again, and come back
to you again and rejoice your heart. Now let us be content with the happy
present. Heigh ho! for the beautiful dress. Shall we ring for your maid?”
“Let us manage without her,” said Nance. “I do not like Hester,” she
continued. “Each day I dislike her more.”
“Then in the name of fortune, child, why do you keep her?” said Lady
Georgina. “You are surely your own mistress and can do just what you
please.”
“Of course I am my own mistress,” answered Nance, “but I do not like to
give way to mere fancy, and the girl really serves me very well. Still,”
she added, emphasis in her voice, “I do not like Hester Winsome; I know I
never shall like her.”
“Did you ring for me, madam?” said Hester’s voice at that moment.
Both ladies turned and started. Hester had advanced a few steps into the
room. Her face looked serene and innocent.
“I surely heard you ring for me, madam.”
“I did not ring,” answered Nancy.
“Another time, knock before you enter a room, Hester,” said Lady Georgina
in her curtest, shortest voice.
“Yes, please do, Hester,” said Nancy; “but now that you are here, stay. I
want to try on my new ball dress. You told me, did you not, that it had
arrived from Madame Delaroi’s last night?”
“Yes, madam, it is in the large wardrobe.”
Hester crossed the room as she spoke, opened a wardrobe, and took out
a magnificent dress of the palest cream brocade, richly and heavily
embroidered with seed pearls.
“Ah!” cried Lady Georgina, “that dress is worth looking at. It really
makes my mouth water. For the third time, I say, what it is to be rich!”
“The dress is lovely,” said Nance. She went up to it, and, lifting the
train, flung it over her arm.
“It is not only the material but the style,” said Lady Georgina. “Why,
it is unique, perfect. Madame Delaroi is a genius. See this enticing
petticoat. Notice the train—the way it will set. You must be careful how
you hold it up to-night, Nancy. See, oh, do see this fascinating little
shoe with its pearl buckle. Get into your costume, my dear; be quick
about it. You will certainly be Gainsborough’s Dame Rowton come alive.”
“If I might venture to speak, madam,” said Hester, “I think your hair
ought to be arranged to correspond with the dress, or it will be
impossible to judge of the general effect. The hair must, of course, be
piled up very high on the head and powdered.”
“Yes; but I cannot wait for that just now,” said Nance.
“You must, Nance: we really must see the thing complete,” said Lady
Georgina.
“Well, if I must, I must,” replied Mrs. Rowton.
She sat down before her glass with a good-humoured sigh.
“There are some disadvantages in being rich,” she said, smiling up into
Lady Georgina’s face.