A Canadian Heroine, Volume 1 | Page 8

gone
some time ago with Maurice Leigh."
"Gone! Why, Bellairs, what hours do people keep in Canada?"
"In Cacouna they keep reasonable ones, my good cousin; we begin to
dance at nine and finish soon after twelve. That accounts for the young
people being young. But come, if you are ready."
The house where the dance was to take place stood on a slight elevation,
so that its unglazed windows, blazing with light, shone out
conspicuously and lighted the approaching guests as they wound their
way among the rough heaps of mortar, planks, and various débris left
by the workmen. The two gentlemen made their way readily to the
open door, and stepped at once into full view of the ball-room.
It was a space of about fifty feet long and thirty wide, running all across

the house from back to front. Chandeliers of most primitive
construction had been hung from the roof, and so skilfully decked with
green that the rough splinters of wood which formed them were
completely hidden. Flags and garlands ornamented the rough brick
walls, and with plenty of light and flowers, and no small amount of
taste and skill, the volunteer decorators had in fact succeeded in making
out of rather unpromising materials, a very gay and brilliant-looking
saloon.
A small space near the door had been railed off, and served as a
passage to the dressing-rooms, from which sounds of voices and
laughter came merrily, though the ball-room itself was at present quite
empty.
"Your neighbours are not quite so punctual as you would have me
believe," said Mr. Percy; "there is not even a fiddler visible."
At that moment Mrs. Bellairs put her head out of a dressing-room. "Oh,
William!" she said, "I'm so glad you are come. Have you seen Maurice
or Henry Scott?"
"No indeed. Where are your fiddlers?"
"Just what I want to know. When we came they had not arrived, and
Henry was gone to look for them. Maurice only waited a few minutes,
and finding they did not come, he went too. What shall we do?"
"Wait, I suppose. They are sure to be here immediately. I only hope
they will arrive tolerably sober."
Mrs. Bellairs shrugged her shoulders and retreated. Mr. Percy smiled
rather contemptuously.
"Do these accidents often happen?" he asked.
"Dear me! no. I never knew anything to go wrong where Elise had the
management, before. But I must go and look if they are coming."

He hurried out, but scarcely passed the doorway when the lost
musicians appeared, under the guidance of Maurice and Henry Scott.
They were not, perhaps, quite beyond suspicion as to sobriety, but there
was no fear of their being unable to do their duty reasonably well. The
happy news of their arrival being made known by the commencement
of a vigorous tuning, the doors of the dressing-rooms opened, and the
ball-room began to fill.
The common opinion of Cacouna had undoubtedly been that Mr.
Percy--the Honourable Edward Percy, whose name was in the
Peerage--would dance the first quadrille with Mrs. Bellairs. But
sovereigns are permitted to be capricious, especially female ones, and
the Queen of Cacouna was not above the weaknesses of her class.
Perhaps Mr. Percy--who was certainly bored himself--bored her a little.
At any rate she signified her intention of bestowing her hand upon an
elderly gentleman, the owner of the house, to whom, as she said, they
were so much indebted for his kindness in allowing them to
metamorphose it as they had done.
The gentleman, thus left at liberty to choose his own partner, found his
eyes turning naturally to Lucia; but before he had quite made up his
mind, Maurice came up to her.
"Lucia," he said, "I shall be obliged to give up my quadrille. It is a great
nuisance; but keep the next for me, will you not?"
She nodded and smiled, and he hurried off.
Mr. Percy still stood undecided. His cousin touched him on the
shoulder, "Are not you going to dance?" he asked.
"I suppose so," with the slightest possible shrug. "Miss Costello, if you
are disengaged, will you dance this quadrille with me?"
Lucia turned when he spoke. The same deep crimson flush came to her
face as when their eyes had first met that morning. She felt angry with
him for asking her, and with Maurice for having left her free. She
longed to say to him some of the civil impertinences women can use to

men they dislike, but she was too great a novice, and found no better
expedient than to accept the invitation as coolly as it was given.
Probably, however, Mr. Percy attributed her blush to a cause very
different from its real one; or else there was something soothing and
agreeable in finding himself in