That triumphant gentleman now started forward, and, with a low bow, extended his hand to lead to the ballroom this rose-colored paragon and cynosure of all eyes.  Evelyn smiled upon him, and gave him her scarf to hold, but would not be hurried; must first speak to her old friend Mr. Haward, and tell him that her father’s foot could now bear the shoe, and that he might appear before the ball was over.  This done, she withdrew her gaze, from Haward’s strangely animated, vividly handsome countenance, and turned it upon the figure at his side.  “Pray present me!” she said quickly.  “I do not think I have the honor of knowing”—­

Audrey raised her head, that had been bent, and looked again, as she had looked yesterday, with all her innocent soul and heavy heart, into the eyes of the princess.  The smile died from Evelyn’s lips, and a great wave of indignant red surged over face and neck and bosom.  The color fled, but not the bitter anger.  So he could bring his fancy there!  Could clothe her that was a servant wench in a splendid gown, and flaunt her before the world—­before the world that must know—­oh, God! must know how she herself loved him!  He could do this after that month at Westover!  She drew her breath, and met the insult fairly.  “I withdraw my petition,” she said clearly.  “Now that I bethink me, my acquaintance is already somewhat too great.  Mr. Lee, shall we not join the company?  I have yet to make my curtsy to his Excellency.”

With head erect, and with no attention to spare from the happy Mr. Lee, she passed the sometime suitor for her hand and the apple of discord which it had pleased him to throw into the assembly.  A whisper ran around the hall.  Audrey heard suppressed laughter, and heard a speech which she did not understand, but which was uttered in an angry voice, much like Mistress Deborah’s when she chided.  A sudden terror of herself and of Haward’s world possessed her.  She turned where she stood in her borrowed plumage, and clung to his hand and arm.  “Let me go,” she begged.  “It is all a mistake,—­all wrong.  Let me go,—­let me go.”

He laughed at her, shaking his head and looking into her beseeching face with shining, far-off eyes.  “Thou dear fool!” he said.  “The ball is made for thee, and all these folk are here to do thee honor!” Holding her by the hand, he moved with her toward a wide doorway, through which could be seen a greater throng of beautifully dressed ladies and gentlemen.  Music came from this room, and she saw that there were dancers, and that beyond them, upon a sort of dais, and before a great carved chair, stood a fine gentleman who, she knew, must be his Excellency the Governor of Virginia.

CHAPTER XX

THE UNINVITED GUEST

“Mistress Audrey?” said the Governor graciously, as the lady in damask rose from her curtsy.  “Mistress Audrey whom?  Mr. Haward, you gave me not the name of the stock that hath flowered in so beauteous a bloom.”