One evening in the fourth week of our hero's stay in town, he took up a
book while he was waiting for his chop, and a card fell on the floor.
This card he discovered was to admit the bearer to a ball about to be
held in the neighbourhood. When the landlady appeared, he asked if the
card belonged to her. She said she had been looking everywhere for that
card; they had had some to dispose of, and they had sold all but this
one; a customer had wanted it, but as she could not find it, he had
procured one elsewhere. Would Mr Webb like to buy it himself?
Mr Webb thanked her, but declined.
'Oh, well,' said she, 'it will be of no use now to us, as the ball
begins at nine o'clock this evening. Perhaps you will accept this
ticket, and make use of it?'
This, after a little consideration, Isaac was happy to do. It would
pass away a few hours, and it would lead to no expense, as he observed
that the ticket included refreshments. He did not suppose he should
dance; he never had done such a thing, but there was no telling, if
once his blood was up. So at eight o'clock Isaac donned a clean paper
collar, took his well-tried friends, his gray thread gloves, and walked
leisurely to the place of entertainment. He arrived there about nine;
and on presenting himself and his ticket, he was directed to the Master
of the Ceremonies, a dapper little man with a short dress coat and very
tight pumps, who did not seem capable of standing still for a minute.
He received Isaac's name and ticket, and danced off with him to the
ballroom; and throwing open the door, announced in a very shrill voice,
'Isaac Webb, Esquire, ladies and gentlemen.'
The ladies and gentlemen addressed consisted of an antique female in
black silk mittens, and two youths elegantly attired in suits from
Moses's establishment, one of whom was whistling a 'fast' tune, and
the other sauntering about with his hands in his pockets. Each of
them seemed particularly careful to give the mittened lady a wide
berth, thus testifying to all whom it might or might not concern that
they were not all members of the same party. Now these persons were
evidently not _au fait_ with the usages of polite society; for of
course they ought not to have been in their places at the time named
on their tickets, but should have been there at half-past nine at the
earliest. But here they were, listening to the tuning and consequent
grating of two violins and a harp, placed on a small platform at one
end of the ballroom. A violoncello was also expected (so the Master of
the Ceremonies in a whisper through the door informed the company), but
had not yet arrived.
In the course of the next quarter of an hour several more squires
and dames were announced; and the arrivals kept on increasing until
half-past nine, by which time (the violoncello having put in an
appearance and all things being ready) the Master of the Ceremonies (Mr
Hoppe by name) opened the ball by the announcement of a polka. That
individual seemed to take a particular interest in Isaac; perhaps on
account of his countrified appearance, for Mr Batfid's productions had
not been designed or intended for a ballroom; or perhaps because he was
a complete stranger. At all events, he now suggested that Isaac should
lead out the antique lady, to whom Mr Hoppe would be happy to introduce
him, and polk with her. But Isaac declined the honour, saying that
he 'was much obliged, but that he would wait a bit;' so the lady and
himself were among the few who kept their seats.
Almost immediately afterwards the door was opened, and Miss Faithful
and her niece Miss Angela Faithful, were announced. Miss Faithful
looked about fifty-five or sixty years of age; she was tall and slight,
and had evidently been a beauty in her day. Such was her niece now;
there could be no two opinions about it. Even Isaac, who had no great
appreciation of feminine charms, was sensible of it the instant she
entered the room. She was tall, and her figure was beautifully shaped;
she had dark hair and eyes, a brilliant complexion, and features almost
faultless. Moreover, she was dressed quietly, but in excellent taste.
Before Miss Angela Faithful had been in the room many minutes, Isaac
became aware of a peculiar sensation wholly unknown to him. Unqualified
admiration it certainly was; but anything more? Well, he could hardly
tell. He certainly felt interested in her, and desirous of a better
acquaintance. But he did not know how this was to be done. Of course
the most natural and proper thing to do was to obtain an introduction,
and ask her to dance; but for the first time in his life Isaac Webb did
not feel unlimited confidence in his own powers. And the feeling was
reasonable; for to attempt to dance in public without having learned
either a step or a figure, is, to say the least, a hazardous and
serious undertaking.
The two ladies did not remain alone many minutes, for while Isaac was
observing them (at all events one of them), a young man advanced, with
whom they were probably acquainted, for he took a seat beside them,
and at the next dance--a quadrille--walked off with Miss Angela on his
arm to join the set. Isaac watched them take their places, and watched
her through every figure of the (to him) incomprehensible dance; and
when it was ended, his eyes followed her round the room and back to her
seat. Her partner then left her; but his place was almost immediately
filled by a lean young man with yellow hair, who was brought up and
introduced by Mr Hoppe. Again Isaac watched her take her place by her
partner--this time in a waltz; and as he put his arm round her waist,
and she placed her hand on his shoulder, Isaac thought he should like
to be in a similar position; and as the yellow young man did not
excel in the mazy dance, Isaac fancied he could make quite as good a
performance of it. But he let the next dance begin; and towards the
end of it he made his way to Mr Hoppe, and requested the favour of an
introduction to Miss Faithful.
'Do you mean the old lady?' asked the Master of the Ceremonies;
'because if you do, I warn you she is as deaf as a beetle, and if you
talk so as to make her hear, you will have all the people in the room
stand still to listen to you.'
'I mean the young lady,' said Isaac; 'and just tell me,' he added, 'the
proper thing to say when you ask a person to dance.'
'We commonly say,' replied Mr Hoppe: '"May I have the honour of dancing
this quadrille with you, if you are not engaged?" But gentlemen may
vary it according to taste.'
'All right; of course,' returned Isaac. Whereupon they walked to where
Miss Angela Faithful, just left by her last partner, was sitting. Mr
Hoppe went through the introduction; and Isaac, who, to tell the truth,
felt very ill at ease, repeated the formula given him by the Master of
the Ceremonies. Angela looked at her list of engagements, hoping to
find she was bespoken for this dance, without remembering the fact; but
such was not the case; so with a whispered 'With pleasure,' she took
his arm, and they stood up in a polka.
When the dance commenced, Isaac never felt so uncomfortable in his
life. Where to put his feet he didn't know, and where to turn he
didn't know. If he turned one way, it was evidently contrary to his
partner's expectations, for they pulled different ways; if he turned
another, he ran a-muck into another couple; and this on one occasion
was nearly attended with serious consequences; and it was only by
tearing a rent in his partner's dress that he was able to save himself
a sprawl upon the chalked floor. To the spectators the performance
was very diverting. To see this long clumsy yokel floundering about
with so handsome and graceful a girl and so good a dancer, put one in
mind, as a gentleman remarked to his neighbour, of the Beauty and the
Beast. At length, after two or three turns round the room, Isaac was
obliged to give in; not indeed through any feeling that he was making
an exhibition of himself (for of that he was wholly unconscious), but
from sheer inability to keep his footing any longer. With his head in a
whirl, he conducted his partner to a seat and fell into one himself. At
the end of a few minutes, she retired from the ballroom to get the rent
in her dress made whole; and when she was gone, Isaac sought out Mr
Hoppe, and asked him if he could tell him who the lady was and whence
she came.
Mr Hoppe could only inform him that she lived somewhere in Holloway
with her deaf aunt, her present chaperon; that her father and mother
were dead; and that the only relative she had nearer than the aforesaid
aunt, that he knew of, was a brother living abroad.
Isaac hinted about money.
'Oh,' said the little man, rather amused, 'she is not badly off in
that respect; for she has a nice little bit from her mother, and
considerable expectations from her aunt, I have heard.'
O Isaac, you are a deep dog! But you had no idea that on the other side
of the canvas partition by which you were standing were a pair of ears,
intently taking in every word that passed--the possessor of those ears
being Miss Angela Faithful. No, Isaac; you simply thought that here
was the very object you were in quest of, and that you must pursue the
subject further.