Florence neither heard nor saw anything for some time.  Captain Kelly suggested water as being the best restorative under the circumstances.  Porkington wished he had not forgotten his brandy flask.  The doctor’s son thought of bleeding, and played with a little pocket-knife in a suggestive fashion.  On a sudden Glenville, who always had his wits about him, discovered the Drag seated on a rock in a state of helpless terror, and smelling at a bottle of aromatic vinegar as though her life was in danger.  “Lend that to me—­quick, Miss Candlish!” he cried, and seized the bottle.  The Drag struggled to keep possession of it, but in vain, and then fainted away.  The young lady soon recovered sufficiently under the influence of the smelling bottle to walk home with the assistance of Thornton and Mrs. Delamere.  The rest of the party began to separate amid much talking and laughter; for as soon as the danger was passed the whole thing seemed to be a joke; and we had so much to talk of, that we hardly noticed how we got away.  But on looking back I observed that the young artist brought up the rear with Miss Bagshaw, and was evidently being most attentive.  Hawkstone received everybody’s thanks and praise in a simple, good-humoured way, and proceeded to fasten up the boat out of reach of the tide.

CHAPTER V.—­THE BALL.

Mrs. Porkington, attired in the white silk which we all knew so well, reclined upon the sofa.  Porkington, who was, or should be, her lord and master, was perched upon the music stool.  The Drag, in a pink muslin of a draggled description, sat in a deep easy chair, displaying a great deal of skinny ancle and large feet.

“It has always surprised me, my dear,” said Mrs. Porkington, “how fond you are of dancing.”

“Why, what can you mean?” said he.  “Why, I never danced in my life.”

“Oh, of course not,” replied she.  “I am aware you cannot dance, nor did I insinuate that you could, my dear, nor did I say so that I am aware.  But you enjoy these balls so much, you know you do.”

“Well, yes,” he said, languidly, “I like to see the young folks enjoy themselves.”

“Now, for my part,” said his wife, “I am sure I am getting quite tired, and wish the balls were at an end.”

“My dear, I am sure I thought you liked them, or I would never have taken the tickets.”

“Now, my dear, my dear, I must beg, I must entreat, that you will not endeavour to lay the expense of those tickets upon my shoulders.  I am sure I have never been asked to be taken to one of the balls this season.”

When a man tells a lie, it is with some hope, however slight, that he may not be found out; but a woman will lie to the very person whom she knows to be as fully acquainted with the facts as she is herself.  Which is the more deadly sin I leave to the Jesuits.

“I am sure,” said the Coach, making a desperate effort, “you appeared to enjoy them, for you danced a great many dances.”