The guests were received in the drawing-room, and began to arrive in uninterrupted succession.  Mr. and Mrs. Tindal, Lord and Lady Eden, Mr. and Mrs. Philip Raymond, Mr. Maurice and Miss Lois Wynyard, Mrs. Lefevre and Miss Jean Lefevre, Mr. and Mrs. Chiverton, Colonel Stokes and his wife, and Sir Edward Lucas with an architectural scheme in his pocket; however, he danced none the worse for it, as Miss Fairfax testified by dancing with him three times.  She had a charming audacity in evading awkward partners, and it was observed that she waltzed only with the new member.  She looked in joyous spirits, and acknowledged no reason why she should deny herself a pleasure.  More than once in the course of the evening she flattered Lady Angleby’s hopes by telling her it was a most delicious ball.

Mr. Fairfax contemplated his granddaughter with serene speculation.  Lady Angleby had communicated to him the results of Mrs. Betts’s inquisition.  At a disengaged moment he noticed a wondering pathos in Bessie’s eyes, which were following Mr. Cecil Burleigh’s agile movements through the intricate mazes of the Lancers’ Quadrilles.  His prolonged gaze ended by attracting hers; she blushed and drew a long breath, and seemed to shake off some persistent thought.  Then she came and asked, like a light-footed, mocking, merry girl, if he was not longing to dance too, and would he not dance with her?  He dismissed her to pay a little attention to Mrs. Chiverton, who sat like a fine statue against the wall, unsought of partners, and Bessie went with cheerful submission.  Her former school-rival was kind to her now with a patronizing, married superiority that she did not dislike.  Mrs. Chiverton knew from her husband of the family project for Miss Fairfax’s settlement in life, and as she approved of Mr. Cecil Burleigh as highly as her allegiance to Mr. Chiverton permitted her to approve of anybody but himself, she spoke at some length in his praise, desiring to be agreeable.  Bessie suffered her to go on without check or discouragement; she must have understood the drift of many things this evening which had puzzled her hitherto, but she made no sign.  Miss Burleigh said to her brother when they parted for the night that she really did not know what to think or what to advise, further than that Sir Edward Lucas ought to be “set down,” or there was no guessing how far he might be tempted to encroach.  Miss Fairfax, she considered, was too universally inclined to please.

Mr. Cecil Burleigh had no clear resolve of what he would do when he went to walk in the garden the next morning.  He knew what he wanted.  A sort of paradoxical exhilaration possessed him.  He remembered his dear Julia with tender, weary regret, and gave his fancy license to dwell on the winsomeness of Bessie.  And while it was so dwelling he heard her tuneful tongue as she came with Miss Burleigh over the grass, still white with hoar-frost where the sun had not fallen.  He advanced to meet them.