Miscellanea | Page 3

by Harriet passing at this moment with--
"'What! sitting out still? You should be more lively, child! Men don't like dancing with dummies.'
"When her dress had whisked past me I looked up and saw him again, but at that moment he sharply turned his back on me and walked into the card-room. I was sitting still when he came out again with Mr. Topham. The music had just struck up, the couples were gathering; he was going to dance then. I looked down at my bouquet with tears in my eyes, and was trying hard to subdue my folly and to count the petals of a white camellia, when Mr. Topham's voice close by me said--
"'Miss Dorothy Lascelles, may I introduce Mr. Manners to you?' and in two seconds more my hand was in his arm, and he was saying in a voice as commonplace as if the world had not turned upside down--
"'I think it is Sir Roger.'
"It is a minor satisfaction to me to reflect that, for once in my life, I was right. I did talk to Mr. George Manners. The first thing I said was--
"'I am very much obliged to you for picking up my fan.' To which he replied (if it can be called a reply)--
"'I wish I had known sooner that you were Miss Lascelles' sister.'
"I said, 'Did you not see her with me on the stairs?' and he answered--
"'I saw no one but you.'
"Which, as it is the nearest approach to a pretty speech that ever was made to me, I confide solemnly to this my fine new diary, which is to be my dearest friend and confidante this year. Why the music went so fast, and the dance was so short on this particular occasion, I never could fathom; both had just ceased, and we were still chatting, when midnight struck, deep-toned or shrill, from all the clocks in the house; and, in the involuntary impressive pause, we could hear through the open window the muffled echo from the village church. Then Mr. Topham ran in with a huge loving-cup, and, drinking all our good healths, it was passed through the company.
"When the servant brought it to me, Mr. Manners took it from him, and held it for me himself by both handles, saying--
"'It is too heavy for your hands;' and I drank, he quoting in jest from _Hamlet_--
"'Nymph, in thine orisons be all my sins remembered.'
"Then he said, 'I shall wish in silence,' and paused a full minute before putting it to his lips. When the servant had taken it away, he heaved so profound a sigh that (we then being very friendly) I said--
"'What is the matter?'
"'Do you believe in presentiments, Miss Lascelles?' he said.
"'I don't think I ever had a presentiment,' I answered.
"'Don't think me a fool,' he said, 'but I have had the most intense dread of the coming of this year. I have a presentiment (for which there is no reason) that it will bring me a huge, overwhelming misfortune: and yet I have just wished for a blessing of which I am vastly unworthy, but which, if it does come, will probably come this year, and which would make it the brightest one that I have ever seen. Be a prophet, Miss Lascelles, and tell me--which will it be?--the joy or the sorrow?'
"He gazed so intently that I had some difficulty in answering with composure--
"'Perhaps both. We are taught to believe that life is chequered.'
"'See,' he went on. 'This is the beginning of the year. We are standing here safe and happy. Miss Lascelles, where shall we be when the year ends?'
"The question seemed to me faithless in a Christian, and puerile in a brave man: I did not say so; but my face may have expressed it, for he changed the subject suddenly, and could not be induced to return to it. I danced twice with him afterwards; and when we parted I said, emphatically--
"'A happy new year to you, Mr. Manners.'
"He forced a smile as he answered, 'Amen!'
"Mrs. Dallas (who kindly chaperoned us) slept all the way home; and Miss Dallas and Harriet chatted about their partners. Once only they appealed to me. What first drew my attention was Mr. Manners' name.
"'Poor Mr. Manners!' Harriet said; 'I am afraid I was very rude to him. He had to console himself with you, eh, Dolly?--on the principle of love me love my dog, I suppose?'
"Am I so conceited that this had never struck me? And yet--but here comes Harriet, and I must put you away, dear diary. I blush at my voluminousness. If every evening is to take up so many pages, my book will be full at Midsummer! But was not this a red-letter day?"
Well may I blush, dear Nell, to re-read this girlish nonsense.