And then her hand was actually taken by this handsome and elegant young gallant, and she felt herself being conducted through rooms the magnificence of which she could not take in in her timid, hasty glances.  She had almost begun to think it all a dream from which she must soon awaken, when she heard her companion say in his sweet voice: 

“Mother mine, have you room beneath your ample wing for a little city guest—­a cousin of Cuthbert Trevlyn, who has brought me a most welcome missive from my dear cousin Kate?”

And then Cherry looked up with a pretty, frightened, trusting glance, to find herself being examined and smiled at by quite a bevy of wonderfully-dressed ladies, who after one good look began to laugh in a very reassuring and kindly way, and made room in their midst for the little city maiden with that ease of true good breeding which has ever been the truest test of the blue blood of the English aristocracy.  She looked such a child, in her pretty confusion and bashfulness, that not one of them resented her presence amongst them.  Courtesy and kindliness had always been Lady Andover’s salient characteristics, and there was a native refinement and quaint simplicity about Cherry that would have gone far to disarm severer critics than the present company round Lady Andover.

“Come, my pretty child,” she said; “thou shalt sit beside me, and tell me all about thyself.  The name of Trevlyn is well known and well loved in this house.  Thou comest under good auspices.”

And so Cherry again found herself the plaything and pet of a group of good-humoured people, though this time they were fine ladies in dresses that fairly took away her breath, as she ventured to study them with eager, furtive glances.  She answered all their questions with pretty, candid frankness; told of her adventure in the osier beds, and of Cuthbert’s timely rescue; told of her life under her father’s roof, and her simple daily duties and pleasures.  And the grand ladies listened and laughed, and made much of her; and her soft white hood was removed and admired, and passed round almost as it had been amongst the waiting women.  Cherry felt quite bashful at sitting amongst those fine ladies with no cover for her head but her own curls; but she noted that the younger ladies present had no adornment beside that, unless it were a bow of ribbon or a few sparkling pins:  so she took courage, and her hot cheeks burned less brightly, though she could not help her eyes sparkling and dancing beneath their long lashes as she wondered what in the world her aunt Susan would say could she see her for a moment in her present surroundings.

And then the play began, and Cherry sat entranced from the moment the curtain rose till it fell again.  She had never seen anything of the sort before, and was perfectly captivated and carried away, living in the glamour of absolute enchantment, and amusing her fashionable companions almost as much by her artless admiration and enthusiasm as the players did by their mummery and stage tricks.