Kate Coventry | Page 9

they can get an invitation.
Deluded father! both Jane and Julia have the best of reasons in this very
house. You grudge not to spend a broiling September day in the pursuit
of your game; each of your fair daughters, sir, flatters herself that she,
too, has winged her bird.
Swaying backwards and forwards in the mass, like some goodly
merchantman at anchor, pitching and rolling to a ground-swell, behold
the chaperon fulfilling her destiny, and skilfully playing that game
which to her is the business of life. Flushed and hot in person, she is
cool and composed in mind. Practice makes perfect; and the chaperon
is as much at home here as the stockbroker on 'Change, or the
betting-man in the ring, or the fisherman amidst the roar and turmoil of
the waves. With lynx eyes she notes how Lady Carmine's eldest girl is
"carrying on" with young Thriftless, and how Lord Looby's eyeglass is
fixed on her own youngest daughter; yet for all this she is not absent or
preoccupied, but can whisper to stupid Lady Dulwich the very latest
intelligence of a marriage, or listen, all attention, to the freshest bit of
scandal from Mrs. General Gabbler. But perhaps by this time you have

floated with the tide into the doorway, and received from your hostess
the cordial shake of the hand or formal bow which makes you free of
the place. So, with patience and perseverance you work your way at
last into the dancing-room, and you now see what people come here
for--dancing, of course. Each performer has about eighteen inches of
standing room, and on that space must be enacted in hopeless
pantomime the intricate evolutions of the quadrille, or the rotatory
struggles of the waltz. Sliding and smiling, and edging and crushing,
the conscientious dancers try to fulfil their duties, and much confusion
and begging of pardons are the natural results.
However, it's a rare place for love-making. What with the music and
the crowd and the confusion, the difficulty is more to make out what
one's partner does say than to prevent his being overheard by other
people; but, I must confess, if anybody had anything very particular to
say to me, I had rather hear it in the quiet country by moonlight, or
even coming home from Greenwich by water--or anywhere, in short,
rather than in the turmoil of a London ball. But that's all nonsense; and
I hope I have too much pride to allow any man to address me in such a
strain. Trust me for setting him down!
It's no wonder, then, that I was cross when I was dressing for Lady
Horsingham's ball; and that silly Gertrude (that's my maid's name, and
what a name it is for a person in that class of life!) put me more and
more out of patience with her idiotic conversation, which she tries to
adapt to my tastes, and of which the following is a specimen:----
"Master John will be at her ladyship's ball, miss, I make no doubt;"
brushing away the while at my back hair, and pulling it unnecessarily
hard; no maid ever yet had a "light hand."
No answer. What business is it of hers, and why should she call him
Master John? Gertrude tries again: "You look pale to-night, miss; you
that generally has such a colour. I'm afraid you're tired with your ride."
"Not a bit of it--only sleepy. Why, it's time one was in bed."
"Lor, miss, I shouldn't want to go to bed, not if I was going to a ball.

But I think you like 'orse exercise best; and to be sure, your 'orse is a
real beauty, Miss Kate."
The very name of Brilliant always puts me in good humour, so, of
course, I can but answer, "That he is, Gertrude, and as good as he's
handsome;" on which my voluble handmaid goes off again at score.
"That's what I say, miss, when I see him coming round to the door, with
his long black tail and his elegant shape and his thin legs." Thin legs!--I
can't stand that; to hear my beautiful Brilliant's great strong legs called
thin, as if he were made of paper. I feel I am getting savage again, so I
cut Gertrude short, and bid her "finish my hair," and hasten my
dressing, for Aunt Deborah don't take long, and we shall be late for the
ball. At the mention of the word "ball," off goes Gertrude again.
"What a grand ball it'll be, miss, as all her ladyship's is; and I know
there'll be no young lady there as will be better dressed than my young
lady, nor better looking neither; and I'm sure, to see you and Master
John stand up together, as you did last