Shortly after luncheon, Rena had a visitor in the person of Mrs.
Newberry, a vivacious young widow of the town, who proffered her
services to instruct Rena in the etiquette of the annual ball.
"Now, my dear," said Mrs. Newberry, "the first thing to do is to get
your coronation robe ready. It simply means a gown with a long train.
You have a lovely white waist. Get right into my buggy, and we'll go
down town to get the cloth, take it over to Mrs. Marshall's, and have
her run you up a skirt this afternoon."
Rena placed herself unreservedly in the hands of Mrs. Newberry, who
introduced her to the best dressmaker of the town, a woman of much
experience in such affairs, who improvised during the afternoon a gown
suited to the occasion. Mrs. Marshall had made more than a dozen ball
dresses during the preceding month; being a wise woman and
understanding her business thoroughly, she had made each one of them so
that with a few additional touches it might serve for the Queen of Love
and Beauty. This was her first direct order for the specific garment.
Tryon escorted Rena to the ball, which was held in the principal public
hall of the town, and attended by all the best people. The champion
still wore the costume of the morning, in place of evening dress, save
that long stockings and dancing-pumps had taken the place of
riding-boots. Rena went through the ordeal very creditably. Her shyness
was palpable, but it was saved from awkwardness by her native grace and
good sense. She made up in modesty what she lacked in aplomb. Her
months in school had not eradicated a certain self-consciousness born
of her secret. The brain-cells never lose the impressions of youth, and
Rena's Patesville life was not far enough removed to have lost its
distinctness of outline. Of the two, the present was more of a dream,
the past was the more vivid reality. At school she had learned
something from books and not a little from observation. She had been
able to compare herself with other girls, and to see wherein she
excelled or fell short of them. With a sincere desire for improvement,
and a wish to please her brother and do him credit, she had sought to
make the most of her opportunities. Building upon a foundation of
innate taste and intelligence, she had acquired much of the
self-possession which comes from a knowledge of correct standards of
deportment. She had moreover learned without difficulty, for it suited
her disposition, to keep silence when she could not speak to advantage.
A certain necessary reticence about the past added strength to a
natural reserve. Thus equipped, she held her own very well in the
somewhat trying ordeal of the ball, at which the fiction of queenship
and the attendant ceremonies, which were pretty and graceful, made her
the most conspicuous figure. Few of those who watched her move with
easy grace through the measures of the dance could have guessed how
nearly her heart was in her mouth during much of the time.
"You're doing splendidly, my dear," said Mrs. Newberry, who had
constituted herself Rena's chaperone.
"I trust your Gracious Majesty is pleased with the homage of your
devoted subjects," said Tryon, who spent much of his time by her side
and kept up the character of knight in his speech and manner.
"Very much," replied the Queen of Love and Beauty, with a somewhat
tired smile. It was pleasant, but she would be glad, she thought, when
it was all over.
"Keep up your courage," whispered her brother. "You are not only queen,
but the belle of the ball. I am proud of you. A dozen women here
would give a year off the latter end of life to be in your shoes
to-night."
Rena felt immensely relieved when the hour arrived at which she could
take her departure, which was to be the signal for the breaking-up of
the ball. She was driven home in Tryon's carriage, her brother
accompanying them. The night was warm, and the drive homeward under
the starlight, in the open carriage, had a soothing effect upon Rena's
excited nerves. The calm restfulness of the night, the cool blue
depths of the unclouded sky, the solemn croaking of the frogs in a
distant swamp, were much more in harmony with her nature than the
crowded brilliancy of the ball-room. She closed her eyes, and, leaning
back in the carriage, thought of her mother, who she wished might have
seen her daughter this night. A momentary pang of homesickness pierced
her tender heart, and she furtively wiped away the tears that came into
her eyes.
"Good-night, fair Queen!" exclaimed Tryon, breaking into her reverie as
the carriage rolled up to the doorstep, "and let your loyal subject
kiss your hand in token of his fealty. May your Majesty never abdicate
her throne, and may she ever count me her humble servant and devoted
knight."
"And now, sister," said Warwick, when Tryon had been driven away, "now
that the masquerade is over, let us to sleep, and to-morrow take up the
serious business of life. Your day has been a glorious success!"
He put his arm around her and gave her a kiss and a brotherly hug.
"It is a dream," she murmured sleepily, "only a dream. I am Cinderella
before the clock has struck. Good-night, dear John."
"Good-night, Rowena."