Belles and Ringers | Page 7

the year is out. Now, it can hardly
point to Mrs. Evesham, who is on the right, and therefore I conclude it
must indicate Miss Blanche, who is on his left."

"Very ingenious, indeed, Mr. Cottrell; but, dear me! they have begun to
talk about that horrid ball again at the bottom of the table, have they
not?"
"I say, mother," exclaimed Jim Bloxam, "of course we are all going to
this Commonstone ball on Monday?"
"Nonsense! I am surprised at your thinking of such a thing. The idea of
our going to a Commonstone ball on Easter Monday! Just fancy, my
dear Jim, what it would be,--townspeople and excursionists from round
about. No; I don't go in for being exclusive, goodness knows; but the
Commonstone Easter ball is a rather more boisterous business than I
can stand."
"What nonsense!" rejoined the dragoon, a little staggered, all the same,
by his mother's argument. "It will be great fun, and I don't suppose a bit
worse than any other of the Commonstone balls; and we have always
gone to them, you know."
"Yes, but that's a very different thing from an Easter Monday ball. Of
course you and any of the gentlemen of the party can go. You will have
great fun, no doubt."
"But," urged Jim, "we are a large party, and can keep to ourselves, you
know. It is a good room; and here is Blanche, I know, dying for a galop.
Are you not, my sister?"
"No, indeed," said Blanche, responding bravely to her before-dinner
tutoring; "I assure you I don't care about it in the least. I have no doubt
mamma is right, and that the ball will be crowded with all sorts of
disagreeable people."
"You little traitress," said Jim, with a comical grin upon his
countenance, "I did think I could count upon you; but you are as
perfidious as a county elector in these days of the ballot-box."
Poor Blanche coloured and bit her lip. She was conscious of gross
tergiversation, of having ratted shamefully; for that merry party in the

afternoon, as they stood in the camp of Rockcliffe overlooking
Commonstone, had, one and all, vowed to foot it merrily in the
town-hall on Easter Monday, and agreed that for real lovers of dancing
a country ball beat a London one all to pieces.
"Well, mother," rejoined Jim, with one of his queer smiles, "on your
head be it if any harm comes to us; if you will allow your young braves
to go out on the war-path without their natural protectors, you must not
be surprised if some of them lose their scalps. Beauchamp, you are a
devotee of the goddess, I know. You will of course form one of 'the lost
children' who brave all the horde of excursionists for the honour of
Todborough."
"Thanks, no," replied Lionel. "I don't think I care about facing the
barbarians at play."
He was a good deal smitten with Blanche, and knew better than to run
counter to his enslaver's pronounced opinion.
"Then," exclaimed Jim, "like Curtius, I must leap into the gulf
single-handed. Stop! hang it, I will exercise my military prerogative;
yes, Braybrooke, I shall order you to accompany me, if it is only to
witness the sacrifice."
"Stay, Captain Bloxam," said Mrs. Sartoris, laughing. "Such devoted
gallantry deserves encouragement; I won't see you fall into the hands of
the Philistines without an effort at your preservation. You'll go, Tom,
won't you?" she continued, appealing to her husband, "if Lady Mary
can only find us transport."
"Yes, I am good to go, if you wish it," replied Sartoris.
"How I should like to shake the life out of that woman!" thought Lady
Mary, as she smilingly murmured that "if Mrs. Sartoris had the courage
to face the horrors of an Easter ball, there was, of course, the carriage at
her disposal."
"Bravo, Mrs. Sartoris!" cried Jim; "and now that you have given them a

lead, I have no doubt I shall pick up some more recruits, at all events,
young ladies," he continued, appealing to the Misses Evesham, "it's a
consolation to think that we have secured a chaperon, even if our
mothers remain obdurate on the point."
But Lady Mary was not going to suffer any further discussion
concerning the Commonstone ball, if she could possibly prevent it.
What she mentally termed the pig-headedness of her son already
threatened to upset the seclusion that she had marked out as most
conducive to Lionel Beauchamp's subjection. Taking advantage of the
decanters having made their appearance on the table, she bent her head
to Mrs. Evesham, and the rising of the ladies put an end to the subject,
at all events for the present. "If," thought Lady Mary, as she followed
her guests to the drawing-room,