Ishmael | Page 6

and blushing cheeks, and eyes full of innocent admiration, she gazed upon him, he suddenly turned around, and their eyes met full. He smiled sweetly, bowed lowly, and turned slowly away. And she, with childlike delight, seized her sister's arm and exclaimed:
"Oh, Hannah, the young heir bowed to me, he did indeed!"
"He could do no less, since you looked at him so hard," replied the sister gravely.
"But to me, Hannah, to me--just think of it! No one ever bowed to me before, not even the negroes! and to think of him--Mr. Brudenell--bowing to me--me!"
"I tell you he could do no less; he caught you looking at him; to have continued staring you in the face would have been rude; to have turned abruptly away would have been equally so; gentlemen are never guilty of rudeness, and Mr. Brudenell is a gentleman; therefore he bowed to you, as I believe he would have bowed to a colored girl even."
"Oh, but he smiled! he smiled so warmly and brightly, just for all the world like the sun shining out, and as if, as if--"
"As if what, you little goose?"
"Well, then, as if he was pleased."
"It was because he was amused; he was laughing at you, you silly child!"
"Do you think so?" asked Nora, with a sudden change of tone from gay to grave.
"I am quite sure of it, dear," replied the elder sister, speaking her real opinion.
"Laughing at me," repeated Nora to herself, and she fell into thought.
Meanwhile, with a nod to one a smile to another and a word to a third, the young heir and his party passed down the whole length of the room, and retired through an upper door. As soon as they were gone the negro fiddlers, six in number, led by Jovial, entered, took their seats, tuned their instruments, and struck up a lively reel.
There was an, immediate stir; the rustic beaus sought their belles, and sets were quickly formed.
A long, lanky, stooping young man, with a pale, care-worn face and grayish hair, and dressed in a homespun jacket and trousers, came up to the sisters.
"Dance, Hannah?" he inquired.
"No, thank you, Reuben; take Nora out--she would like to."
"Dance, Nora?" said Reuben Gray, turning obediently to the younger sister.
"Set you up with it, after asking Hannah first, right before my very eyes. I'm not a-going to take anybody's cast-offs, Mr. Reuben!"
"I hope you are not angry with, me for that, Nora? It was natural I should prefer to dance with your sister. I belong to her like, you know. Don't be mad with me," said Reuben meekly.
"Nonsense, Rue! you know I was joking. Make Hannah dance; it will do her good; she mopes too much," laughed Nora.
"Do, Hannah, do, dear; you know I can't enjoy myself otherways," said the docile fellow.
"And it is little enjoyment you have in this world, poor soul!" said Hannah Worth, as she rose and placed her hand in his.
"Ah, but I have a great deal, Hannah, dear, when I'm along o' you," he whispered gallantly, as he led her off to join the dancers.
And they were soon seen tritting, whirling, heying, and selling with the best of them--forgetting in the contagious merriment of the music and motion all their cares.
Nora was besieged with admirers, who solicited her hand for the dance. But to one and all she returned a negative. She was tired with her long walk, and would not dance, at least not this set; she preferred to sit still and watch the others. So at last she was left to her chosen occupation. She had sat thus but a few moments, her eyes lovingly following the flying forms of Reuben and Hannah through the mazes of the dance, her heart rejoicing in their joy, when a soft voice murmured at her ear.
"Sitting quite alone, Nora? How is that? The young men have not lost their wits, I hope?"
She started, looked up, and with a vivid blush recognized her young landlord. He was bending over her with the same sweet ingenuous smile that had greeted her when their eyes first met that morning. She drooped the long, dark lashes over her eyes until they swept her carmine cheeks, but she did not answer.
"I have just deposited my mother and sisters in their drawing-room, and I have returned to look at the dancers. May I take this seat left vacant by your sister?" he asked.
"Certainly you may, sir," she faltered forth, trembling with, a vague delight.
"How much they enjoy themselves--do they not?" he asked, as he took the seat and looked upon the dancers with a benevolent delight that irradiated his fair, youthful countenance.
"Oh, indeed they do, sir," said Nora, unconsciously speaking more from her own personal experience of present happiness than from her observation of others.
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