Mistress Stagg, sitting in a dream of her own, started violently.  “La, now, who may that be?” she exclaimed.  “Go to the door, child.  If ’tis a stranger, we shelter none such, to be taken up for the harboring of runaways!”

Audrey went to the door and opened it.  A moment’s pause, a low cry, and she moved backward to the wall, where she stood with her slender form sharply drawn against the white plaster, and with the fugitive, elusive charm of her face quickened into absolute beauty, imperious for attention.  Haward, thus ushered into the room, gave the face its due.  His eyes, bright and fixed, were for it alone.  Mistress Stagg’s curtsy went unacknowledged save by a slight, mechanical motion of his hand, and her inquiry as to what he lacked that she could supply received no answer.  He was a very handsome man, of a bearing both easy and commanding, and to-night he was splendidly dressed in white satin with embroidery of gold.  To one of the women he seemed the king, who could do no wrong; to the other, more learned in the book of the world, he was merely a fine gentleman, whose way might as well be given him at once, since, spite of denial, he would presently take it.

Haward sat down, resting his clasped hands upon the table, gazing steadfastly at the face, dark and beautiful, set like a flower against the wall.  “Come, little maid!” he said.  “We are going to the ball together, you and I. Hasten, or we shall not be in time for the minuet.”

Audrey smiled and shook her head, thinking that it was his pleasure to laugh at her a little.  Mistress Stagg likewise showed her appreciation of the pleasantry.  When he repeated his command, speaking in an authoritative tone and with a glance at his watch, there was a moment of dead silence; then, “Go your ways, sir, and dance with Mistress Evelyn Byrd!” cried the scandalized ex-actress.  “The Governor’s ball is not for the likes of Audrey!”

“I will be judge of that,” he answered.  “Come, let us be off, child!  Or stay! hast no other dress than that?” He looked toward the mistress of the house.  “I warrant that Mistress Stagg can trick you out!  I would have you go fine, Audrey of the hair!  Audrey of the eyes!  Audrey of the full brown throat!  Dull gold,—­have you that, now, mistress, in damask or brocade?  Soft laces for her bosom, and a yellow bloom in her hair.  It should be dogwood, Audrey, like the coronal you wore on May Day.  Do you remember, child?  The white stars in your hair, and the Maypole all aflutter, and your feet upon the green grass”—­

“Oh, I was happy then!” cried Audrey and wrung her hands.  Within a moment, however, she was calm again, and could look at him with a smile.  “I am only Audrey,” she said.  “You know that the ball is not for me.  Why then do you tell me that I must go?  It is your kindness; I know that it is your kindness that speaks.  But yet—­but yet”—­She gazed at him imploringly:  then from his steady smile caught a sudden encouragement.  “Oh!” she exclaimed with a gesture of quick relief, and with tremulous laughter in her face and voice,—­“oh, you are mocking me!  You only came to show how a gentleman looks who goes to a Governor’s ball!”