“I am too white,” thought Betty, with a little frown, all unconscious of her lovely coloring and exquisite red-gold hair, which, guiltless of powder, was massed as usual on top of her head and clustered in wayward little curls on the nape of her snowy neck and over her white forehead; “but never mind,”—­with childlike philosophy,—­“my gown for the New Year ball has both breast and shoulder knots of rose-color; I wish I dare steal one for to-night!  But perhaps Clarissa would not be pleased, so I will descend as I am.  I hear Peter clattering on the staircase; he is no doubt superintending the servants’ dance,” and Betty extinguished her candle and tripped lightly down past Clarissa’s door.

From the sounds and lights she became aware that she was late, and had lingered too long over her toilet, so she hesitated for a brief moment as she reached the door of the drawing-room, where she could see Clarissa and Grandma Effingham standing with a number of guests, both dames and gentlemen.  As she paused on the threshold a graceful, girlish picture, a tall form emerged from the dim shades of the hall, and a hand met hers.

“Mistress Betty, I salute you,” said Geoffrey Yorke, bowing low, “and may I also beg your acceptance of a bunch of clove pinks?  They were grown by my Dutch landlady in a box kept carefully in her kitchen window, and I know not whether she or I have watched them the more carefully, as I wished to be so fortunate as to have them bloom for you to-night.”

“For me?” said Betty, in a delighted whisper, turning such glowing eyes upon him that the young man fell more madly in love with her than ever.  “How kind!—­and at this season?  Oh, they are sweet, and recall the garden walk at home.  Indeed, sir, I thank you,” and scarcely thinking what she did, in her pleasure at his pretty attention, she thrust the bunch of pinks in her fichu, where they lay close to her white throat and gave her toilet the one touch of color for which she had longed.  Small wonder that Geoffrey’s handsome face lit up with triumph, or that Clarissa said to herself as the pair approached her, Betty dimpling with smiles, “What a charming couple they make!  I wonder if my father would object?”

This was Clarissa’s first appearance in society for many months, and the warmth with which she was greeted showed how large a place the New England girl had made in the regard of her husband’s friends.  The party was given chiefly for Betty, that she might have plenty of partners at the New Year ball; and although these were mostly young people, there was also a goodly sprinkling of dames and dowagers, who smiled approvingly when Betty was presented to them, before seating themselves at the all-absorbing card-tables.  Cards were much the mode of the day, and an hour or more was given to them; then as the metheglin (a delicious beverage made of honey) and the mulled wine was passed, the younger portion of the company began moving through the suite of three rooms, breaking up into small groups as they did so.